TRUST
by ILoveJorja
Summary: Sara coaxes Grissom to reveal his past, his sexual history, and his feelings in order to deepen their relationship, and Grissom does the same. They find new levels of trust within themselves and with each other. Fluff, humor,and a dose of angst and smut.


**Summary**: Grissom opens up to Sara about his past, his childhood, his sexual history, and Sara trusts him with her story too. Set sometime after Fallen Idols and before Living Doll. GSR all the way, boys and girls.

**A/N**: This is a sequel of sorts to Heat, though it can be enjoyed on its own! I'm reposting it (with minor changes) as a single document, all twenty-one chapters, and it will be followed by my WIP Trusting the Team.

**TRUST**

Sara came home from a pretty slow shift, and since Grissom had the night off, she was looking forward to seeing him. She was surprised to see him sitting on the sofa, a photo album open in his lap, and a half-empty bottle and heavy tumbler of Scotch on the table in front of him. It was six in the morning, and he had seemed fine when she left for work. Given that their schedules were reversed from "normal" people, it was more like it was six in the evening for them, but still, this was unusual behavior for Gil.

Sara greeted him. Grissom answered absently. He didn't look up, and he didn't get up to give her his usual warm welcoming kiss. Giving him some space, she puttered around, looked through her mail, unloaded the dishwasher, then made and ate a sandwich. After that was tidied up, Sara took her usual shower, shaved her long legs, and got into her comfortable hanging-around-the-house clothes.

She sat down on the cushion next to him and he seemed to remember where he was. Grissom closed and put the photo album on the coffee table and turned to her. He gave her a kiss, and let his face briefly rest in her clean hair.

"You smell good, honey." _Like soap and sandalwood and mint, along with your own special Sidle scent._

"Thanks. I'd say the same, but I'm not crazy about the smell of booze on my main squeeze, and I'm concerned that you've been sitting here alone, getting drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"Okay. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Gil? Do you trust me?"

Without hesitation, he answered, "Of course." His head shot up and he looked at her with an honest expression.

"Good. Do you trust me with your life?"

"Without a doubt."

"Do you trust me with your body?" Seeing his confused expression, Sara explained, "I mean-- in bed. We've done some activities...that required complete trust, right? So, do you trust me?"

"Intimately," Grissom answered in a husky voice. _His bedroom voice._ Sara felt the first stirrings of desire. They smiled at their memory of Sara shaving his beard with a straight razor.

"Do you trust me enough to tell me the truth?"

His head dropped to his chest. In a low voice, Grissom said, "Yes."

"Do you trust me with your heart?'

Now he looked troubled, and didn't answer.

"Okay. That's what I thought. It was one of the main things that kept us apart for so long, wasn't it?" She took his silence as an affirmative answer, and continued. "Listen, honey. You probably did some things you aren't proud of. So did I. And you weren't the first to have your heart broken. I did too. You know I won't think any less of you for whatever you did or what happened to you. I love you completely, and I'll accept that your history is part of what made you who you are."

"I..."

Sara let him gather his thoughts.

"I keep thinking...you will wake up one day and decide you can do better than me," he admitted sadly.

"I can't eliminate all your insecurities, Gil. But you are the one for me, okay? I can't imagine anyone being better than you. I waited for you for _years_. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me." He chuckled a little, and Sara smiled.

"Then you're stuck with me as well."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Sara kissed him, and he responded in kind.

He stroked her face and gazed at her with admiration in his eyes. "You're so very young and beautiful..."

Sara finished impatiently, "And you're so much older and so handsome. I thought we put this one to bed."

"Right." He pursed his lips and looked sheepish.

"Listen, I have the same fear, and have for years. Whenever you started to get interested in another woman, like Heather or Teri or whoever, I kept thinking, 'How can I compete with them?' I keep thinking you just settled for me."

Grissom looked shocked. "I love _you_, Sara. It's always been you. Always. The others were...a passing fancy. A brief infatuation. And I didn't _settle_ for you. I fell in love with you; everything about you. That it took me so long, that was my own...stubbornness, stupidity, and, yes, insecurity. I'm the luckiest man in the world, that you love me too."

"That makes me feel better. But you need to keep telling me that, okay?" She paused and took a breath. "Can I trust you?"

"Yes, Sara. Yes. I would never stray. You make me happy."

"You make me happy too."

They kissed again, Sara putting her arms around his broad shoulders and giving him a squeeze. He peppered her neck with little kisses, and she drew away reluctantly, deciding that this discussion needed to happen.

She tapped the photo album, and looked at him intently. In a soft understanding voice, Sara asked, "Who was she?"

Grissom turned away from her and shook his head.

Sara took his hand. "Please, honey. I need to know. More importantly, you need to tell me. Please?"

"It's hard." She waited.

"She..." A long pause.

"Okay. Let's take our time. May I look?"

"Of course."

Sara deliberately opened the album to the first page.

"Wow. You sure were a cute baby." He smiled.

She pointed to a photo of baby Gil, naked on a receiving blanket, and laughed.

"Nice butt." He blushed a little. "You still have a nice butt." He pushed her playfully with his shoulder, and smiled a crooked smile.

"It's a proven fact. Gilbert Grissom has a fantastic ass." Now he laughed.

"So does Sara Sidle." She laughed happily.

"See, that's another thing we have in common!" They grinned at each other.

She turned a page. "That's your mother, right?"

He looked admiringly at the photo. "Yes. As a blushing bride."

"And this is your father?

His voice dropped. With bitterness, he responded, "Yes. My biological father."

"What happened?" Sara asked, curiously. He'd never revealed this to her.

"He left us. Didn't come home one day, or any day after that. Not a word, not a penny in support, not so much as a Christmas card. Just divorce papers. Don't know where he is. Bastard. I think there was another woman...but Mom never said."

"How old were you?"

"Five."

"Wow." Her eyes widened. "That's hard." She looked carefully at the photograph, taking in the man's features, strong jaw, handsome face, straight nose. Even the cleft in his chin. It was black and white, so she couldn't tell if Grissom's father had blue eyes, but there was definitely a strong resemblance.

"I can see where you got your good looks. And from your mother too. She looks kind, and pretty, and intelligent."

"She is."

"She's alive?"

"Yes. She runs an art gallery in Venice. Probably will have to retire soon, though. She, uh...lost her hearing, not long after my father left."

"So that's why you know ASL?" He nodded.

"How did she lose her hearing?"

"Otosclerosis." Grissom gave her a condensed version of the condition, and added hesitantly, "I had the surgery a few years ago."

"Oh. So that's why you seemed so...oblivious, sometimes."

"Yes. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Things were, um, complicated with us."

"I remember." She stroked his head. "But you're okay, now?"

"They told me I had a 97% recovery."

"Good. I'm glad."

"Sara, um...remember when you asked me to dinner?"

"Like I could forget?" Sara asked bitterly. This was still a sore subject.

"Yeah, well. I was about to schedule the surgery when you came in my office."

"Wow. Talk about shitty timing."

"Yeah. I was distracted. Doesn't excuse how cruel I was to you though. I admire your courage, anyway."

"Thanks. I wouldn't do it again, though."

"I don't blame you. Rejection hurts."

"Yeah, it pretty much sucks. Big time."

"I'm so sorry, honey."

"It's okay now. Water under the bridge, and all that."

He kissed her forehead, then rested his head on hers.

"Hey." Sara said, "I don't know about you, but this is wearing me out. Let's go to bed, okay?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Flirt." She grinned at him and pulled him to their bedroom. They shed their clothes and put on comfortable sleeping attire. Grissom detoured to the bathroom, carefully washing his hands and face and brushing his teeth and swishing mouthwash, so he wouldn't stink of Scotch. Sara hopped into bed and held the sheet up to welcome him. Grissom crawled in next to her and held her close. He kissed her sweetly.

"Honey?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For making me open up," Gil said shyly.

"You're welcome. We'll continue later, okay? I promise to go slow."

"Yes. You're right. I need to tell you."

"Yes. And I need to tell you some stuff too." Feeling him stiffen, she continued, "No, don't worry. You need to know all about me too. So we can understand each other, and trust, right?"

"Right," Grissom responded, relaxing into a sleepy stupor. "Trust...is good."

"I love you Gil."

"And I love you, Sara." They kissed tenderly, and settled into their usual intimate closeness. Sara fell asleep first, after a long happy sigh. Grissom gazed at her, letting himself feel the overwhelming love and gratitude and wonder and awe he felt for this amazing woman.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Sara," he whispered. She stirred a little but didn't wake.

Summary of Chapter 2: Gil's pain.

**CHAPTER TWO**

On the next morning they had together, unhurried, Sara fetched the photo album, and they resumed their comfortable positions on the big couch. Sara crossed her legs yoga style, and held the album on her lap, as Gil leaned in close, holding her, and looking over her shoulder. Sara turned to the next page. There was a sweet photograph of his mother, sitting in a big armchair, holding an open book. A very young Gil was curled in her lap. There was a warm light and neither of them seemed aware of the camera.

"She read to you?" Sara sounded wistful.

"All the time. She taught me to read and write, even before I started school."

"That's why you love books. And are so well-read."

"Yes. Books are such a gift."

"Yes. They are. I learned to love books early too. But not from my parents."

"Tell me?" Grissom asked.

"Well, you know about my mother and father." He nodded sympathetically. "They were too busy getting high to read to me. And my dad would get drunk and hit and insult me for being a good student. Asshole. Luckily I had some great teachers. First grade, my teacher's name was Miss Hartman. She made reading fun. And she was very encouraging, telling me I was so smart, and nice, and good."

"She was right."

"Thanks." Sara smiled. "It was a way to get away from all the shit at home, you know? I could escape, in books. I always loved the library. The librarian was sweet too. Mrs. Bell. She gave me my first library card, and let me read anything I wanted to. She would come over and talk to me, and let me stay until they closed. My home away from home."

"I'm glad, for those women in your life."

"Me too. I'd be even more messed up, without them."

"I doubt that. And you're not messed up, at all."

"That's because you're screwed up too." They laughed.

"Good point." Grissom hugged her closer.

"I'm glad you had such a wonderful mother, Gil."

"So am I."

"I'd like to meet her," Sara added.

"I'd like that too."

"Tell me about her?"

"She's amazing. So strong. Never complained. Never said a bad word about anyone. Always supported me."

"With the bugs, and dead animals?"

"Among other things. She let me bring home dead cats or whatever washed up on the beach, and cut them up. She's deathly afraid of spiders, but let me keep all kinds of creatures in my bedroom." Grissom smiled fondly.

"If that's not love, what is?"

"Exactly." He looked at Sara gratefully. "She loves me, unconditionally. But was careful not to spoil me."

"No. 'Spoiled' is not a word to describe you at all. She taught you good values, right?"

"Yes. Hard work, responsibility, honesty..."

"So, she made you a good man. I'll thank her."

"Thanks. Hey, next time we have some time off together, let's go see her?"

"I'd like that. I need to clear it with my supervisor, though."

"He'll listen, believe me." Sara grinned at him.

Sara looked at a photo of a tall, lean man, dark haired, with a short beard. He was holding little Gil's hand.

"Who's this?"

"My stepfather. He was a friend of the family, and when my father...abandoned us, he was kind. He and my mother loved each other. And he loved me. They married when I was six and a half." His eyes softened.

"What's his name?"

"Frank Howard. He taught botany at college."

"So that's why you have all those books on botany."

"Yes. He wrote one of them, and contributed to others."

"And he encouraged your interest in nature?"

"Yes. We spent a lot of time outdoors, and he would point out the different wildflowers, and tell me all about them, but I would just focus on the bees or ladybugs or whatever was crawling on them." Grissom smiled a little, remembering.

"Is he...alive?" Sara asked hesitantly.

"No." Grissom looked down, and his eyes moistened. "He...died."

"What happened?" She stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"I came home from school one hot day. I was nine years old. Dad came in and lay down on the couch behind me. I was on the floor, watching TV. My mom brought him a cold drink, and she...she couldn't wake him up." Grissom choked up.

"Oh, honey."

"No one would tell me why." He looked away, visibly trying to control himself.

"Come here." Sara pulled him to his feet and took him in her arms. Gil buried his face in her neck and soft hair.

"Let it out." His body shook and she heard muffled sobs.

Sara held him, stroking his back, and making soft soothing sounds. She felt his tears moisten her shirt. She waited with infinite patience, until he calmed. At last he pulled away and looked at her, the pain in his eyes still.

"Sorry."

"Don't ever be sorry for this, Gil. It's okay. Your pain...I can't take it away, but I can understand it."

"Yes. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Let's go to bed, all right? I feel an overwhelming urge to make love to you."

"Sounds like a great urge to me. Far be it for me to argue..." She shoved him playfully toward the bedroom."...with such flawless logic." Sara laughed and pinched his butt. They tusseled a little. Once the lights were dimmed, and the mood deepened, Sara tenderly removed his clothing, then all of hers. She lay down and crooked her finger at him. Gil grinned happily, and lay next to her.

He buried his face on her breasts, and sucked her nipples and neck. Sara arched and stroked his head and neck. She turned him on his back and kissed him sweetly.

As soon as he was settled, she stroked his skin reverently. Kissing and stroking and sucking on his neck, cheek, jaw, and earlobe, she whispered little words of comfort and love, telling him this was all about him.

"Make love to me, Sara." His voice was low and husky.

Sara felt an overwhelming rush of love and tenderness and desire. She stroked his skin and caressed his muscular body. "Oh honey, I love you so much."

"Love you too baby." His voice had become more passionate.

Sara spent a long time on his broad chest, kissing and licking and sucking every inch, then taking his nipples in her mouth, gently biting them, and blowing little warm breaths. Grissom's breathing hitched and his pleasure was heard in his murmurs and throaty moans. Ever so slowly, she made a wet trail down to his belly, and slathered it with her tongue sensuously. She dipped her tongue in his belly button, stroking his strong legs and thighs. Gil groaned.

"You feel so good baby." Sara dipped her face between his legs and kissed and nibbled his sensitive thighs. Looking up, she felt a rush of pride to see her lover so caught up in his pleasure. The pleasure _she_ was giving him.

"I want to suck you, babe. Let me make you come."

He nodded, and closed his eyes.

Sara took his big cock in her mouth. Moving slowly, with only a little pressure, she sucked him in. So slowly. Wet and slow and hot. Very gradually, she increased the pressure with her tongue and lips, and the speed with her head. Gil watched her and his arousal increased at her careful, gentle way of making love to him with her mouth.

Sara stroked him between his legs, caressed his balls, then gripped his throbbing cock firmly. She raised her face and watched him as she stroked his cock harder. Grissom grimaced, bit his lip, and whimpered. She released him, waited a little, then took him in her mouth again and sucked powerfully. Grissom thrust his hips up forcefully and cried out. Sara laid her arm across his belly and bobbed her head, faster and faster. She felt the stirrings of her own orgasm just from pleasuring him. Grissom was thrashing and yelling his love for her. Moving with a practiced rhythm, she felt the tension that preceded his orgasm. When she hummed a little in encouragement, he spurted his warm creamy come in her mouth, as her own orgasm spread warmth between her legs. They collapsed, boneless.

"Oh my love." Grissom pulled her up along his sweat-moistened body. "You're so good to me."

"You too. You made me come, just from making you come."

"Really?"

"Yes. That's how much you turn me on."

"Wow."

"Wow is right," she chuckled. "Go to sleep, Gil."

"OK. But I get to make love to you next."

"Deal." She smiled broadly and they kissed goodnight.

Summary of Chapter 3: Grissom's boyhood and high school days.

**CHAPTER THREE**

Sara and Grissom left work one night at nearly the same time. Sara ran some errands on the way home, and was pleased and proud that Grissom was waiting for her with the photo album when she came in. He had an array of breakfast stuff laid out on the coffee table, fruit and pastries and bagels, and a pot of fresh coffee in the kitchen.

Grissom jumped up and kissed her happily, took her things and jacket, and poured her a cup of coffee, adding the right amount of milk and sugar. She took it from him gratefully, and they sat on the couch and had their breakfast. When they were done, and Grissom had tidied up, he joined her on the couch and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'm ready for our next session," he said eagerly.

Sara grinned at his enthusiasm. "Good. This is kind of fun." He nodded, looking at her.

She turned to the next page. These were photos of Gil as a boy, in his bedroom with all his habitats and collected bones and shells on wooden shelves and some mounted butterflies and bugs on the walls. He was sitting on his narrow metal bed, looking at the camera and smiling.

"I can see the influence of your mother's artistry. You mounted all these insects?"

"Yes."

"How did you learn to do that?"

"From a book."

"Of course." She chuckled.

There was a photo of Gil as an altar boy, and another of him in his confirmation suit, which looked small and tight on him, with his hair slicked down. A priest had his hand on Gil's shoulder.

"I was growing like a weed." She smiled.

The next was a skinny Gil in shorts and what had once been a white T-shirt, walking along a California beach, head down and looking intently at the sand and small pools among the rocks. Another shot was of the wiry boy with a buzz cut, proudly holding a trophy, with a science fair display behind him.

"You won first place–why am I not surprised?"

He grinned at her. "Argentinian red ants. The volcanos didn't have a chance."

"Your mother must have been proud."

"She was. She was always proud of whatever I did." Sara smiled fondly at him.

Gil as an adolescent was next. He was gawky looking, but starting to fill out. A solid-looking white-haired man had his arm around Grissom's shoulders. They were outdoors, with a fence behind them and some grazing cattle in the distance.

"Your grandfather?"

"Yeah. My mother's father. I helped out on his ranch over summer vacations."

"So that's where you got your muscles. You weren't just a bookish boy."

"No." He blushed a little. "He died when I was nineteen and Mom sold the ranch."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It paid for my college tuition."

Some group photos of classmates and Grissom's high school graduation pictures followed.

"Were you as happy as I was, to get out of high school?"

"I sure was. I told Warrick once I was a ghost in high school. I was only interested in the schoolwork, didn't join much, but played a lot of baseball and football." There was a picture of him wearing a white jersey with the number 52, and another with his letter jacket.

"Bet the girls were mooning over you. You were cute. Hot."

"Nah. Not really."

"C'mon. No girlfriend?"

"Well..."

"Was she your first?"

Grissom smiled at her with his eyes. "Yeah. Sandy. She was a science nerd, like me. We did all our lab projects together, chemistry experiments, you know. She had a car and we would drive around for hours, talking."

"And?" Sara prompted. Grissom squirmed a little.

"And, you know. Hormones and all that. She kissed me one night, and then we started making out all the time. Damn, I was as horny as a ram. She had a Ford...Rambler I think it was. With a flat bed in the back. And a sleeping bag. So of course we tried it out one night. God, I was nervous and fumbling like an idiot. I couldn't get her bra off. She, uh, had more experience than me. Tried to get me to relax. And didn't laugh when I shot my wad before I got her pants off."

Sara nodded attentively.

"So, that time didn't go so well. But the next–she kind of talked me through it. Told me what she liked, and showed me." Grissom blushed. "Then, I was in her, and oh God, it was heaven. I wanted to screw all the time. And we did. But she...moved on. Got another boyfriend and I was left with memories, and my hand."

"How old were you? Did she break your heart?'

"Seventeen. No, she didn't–bruised, more like. You know that Bob Seger song? _I used her and she used me and neither one cared_..."

"_We were getting our share_...Night Moves."

"Exactly."

"Well, she helped make you the wonderful lover you are. I'd like to thank her."

"Thanks." Grissom pulled Sara to him and kissed her deeply. "But you have more to do with that than Sandy did, honey."

"Thank you."

"You got me all hot and bothered, talking about this. How about I make good on our deal?"

"You bet, lover."

Grissom took Sara by the hand and ran a bubble bath, kissing her deeply and sensuously as the tub filled. He helped her in, and let her lean back, while he got in facing her. Sara put her long slender legs around his hips. He kissed her reverently, exploring and pleasing her with his hands, and letting the bubbles and soapy water run down her exquisite body.

When neither could wait anymore, Gil pulled her up a little and guided himself inside her wet warm pussy. They rocked together for the longest time. He made her come, and each was better than the last. When he finally let go it was a perfect explosion of pleasure and union.

Grissom helped her out and they toweled each other off. He scooped her up in his arms and Sara squealed. Laying her gently on the bed, Gil made love to her whole body with his mouth and fingers and tongue. They fell asleep with Sara sprawled over his big warm body.

Summary of Chapter 4: Sara's childhood and adolescence.

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Their next session had to wait until a number of difficult and emotionally painful cases had been resolved. Sara became wrapped up in a child abuse case and Grissom noted it, for once kindly letting her feel what she felt, but storing it up to ask about later. He dreaded it, but now knew how important it was for her to open up.

"Your turn, honey," Grissom said, tossing the photo album to the floor, away from them.

Sara sighed. "I did start this, didn't I?"

"Yes. And you taught me how cleansing this is, me trusting you. Please tell me."

"I don't have any photos...not many anyway. Where should I start?"

"Not with your childhood, I think we know enough about that. Unless there's more to the story that you want to share? Uh, your father?"

Sara knew what he was asking. "Okay. I told you my father hit me sometimes, and beat the shit out of my mother. But he...never abused me sexually."

Grissom let out a long relieved sigh. "Thank God for that."

"I know. So when my mother killed him, I was put in foster care."

Grissom nodded encouragingly.

"I was twelve, and at first...I tried to be invisible. Blend in with the furniture. That didn't seem to work, though, as I was sent to another home. That one was much more strict. I had to be the best little girl I could be, all A's, though that wasn't too hard..." Grissom smiled at her proudly and squeezed her shoulders.

"I was the only girl, and the youngest. I had three older foster brothers. They got away with everything, and did nothing," her expression hardened, "while I had to wash and cook and clean for hours. Every Saturday they had me scrub the house from top to bottom." Sara shook her head angrily and bit her lip. "I determined then and there I'd never just be someone's housewife and maid."

"No. You were going places."

Sara smiled a little and her eyes softened. "Yeah. I was going places. You know, that's why it means a lot to me that you share in the housework and cooking. You treat me like I'm your partner."

"You are my partner, dear. In every way."

"Thank you." Sara gave him a big grateful kiss. "I'm so lucky..." She kissed him again and this one lasted longer.

"So. The next foster home was a little better. They had so many kids, some older, some younger, that I wasn't so singled out. I was fifteen, and you know, getting boobs and all that." Sara blushed a little. "My older foster brothers were...good looking. And they noticed."

"I can imagine. You must have been a real beauty then, like now, but younger."

"Thank you." She pursed her lips adorably and he kissed her.

"It's odd, you know? Not just living with strangers, but with other kids that aren't related to you. Hormone city. Two of my foster brothers were gay and man did they go at it. All over the house, inside and out. I watched them a little with my foster sister (Grissom raised his eyebrows) and it was hot as hell. They were taken away when my foster mom walked in on them on the couch,_ in flagrante delicto_." She giggled. "Her shriek was priceless. How could they not know? I was a virgin, but even I knew what fucking sounded like, and these guys were _loud_. And of course the other boys were jacking off constantly. It was a battle to get in the bathroom."

Grissom smiled at her and his eyes were amused.

"So. The hottest of the boys was named Mark. Hooee. He was a jock, and built... and he could kiss...not as well as you, of course, and way too much tongue, but I was primed like a pump. So on the night of my sixteenth birthday he took me for a walk. And then he took my cherry." She giggled. "It was...sweet. We lay under the stars, on his leather jacket, and...he took his time. It hurt, of course, but when he was done...I wanted to do it again, as soon as possible."

Sara risked a look at Gil, and liked his grin.

"Hell yeah. So we did. Man, we were humping like rabbits for a while there. Again my foster parents were oblivious. We spent the night in his bed! A lot!"

"So what happened, with Mark?"

"Oh. Another girl moved in, younger than me. It was all over, but I didn't know, he moved on so fast. I went to his room one night as usual, and she was...going down on him. He looked up at me, and he didn't say a word. Just kept stroking her hair."

"Jesus, Sara."

"Yeah, I know. Definite loss of trust at that point. So, I kind of slept around for awhile. You know, getting my self-esteem up. Getting back at Mark. Working on my night moves."

They smiled at each other.

"I wasn't a slut."

"Of course not, honey."

"But I was, uh, willing. And it wasn't difficult, with those California surfer boys. I surfed too. Never got serious though. And I never let it interfere with my studies. I finished high school a year early and went off to Harvard."

"With a full scholarship."

"Yes." She blew out a breath. "I think that's enough for now. Closing the chapter on our high school years."

"Good place to stop."

They went to bed and made sweet blissful love, Sara riding Grissom and feeling every warm throbbing inch, stroking him along her G-spot, and getting them both off. When it was over, Gil told her how grateful he was to have her in his life, and for the way she waited for him.

She told him the same and said he was worth the wait. They slept peacefully.

Summary of Chapter 5: Sara's pain.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Another crime wave hit, and the team had to cover a lot of different cases solo. Grissom and Sara didn't see much of each other at work, and when they were home, they were casual, both knowing they weren't up for big revelations until work eased. Their lovemaking was not elaborate, just intimate and simple unions that reinforced their powerful bond and provided comfort and peace.

Grissom felt closer to Sara than he ever had before with another woman, or any other person. Ever. He told her so, and she smiled at him.

Grissom settled her between his legs so she could relax back and he could hold her in his arms.

He began this session with trepidation.

"Sara?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me about...what happened to you."

"What do you mean?" She had an inkling, as they could read each other's minds sometimes, but she had to make sure.

"Did a man...ever...hurt you? Attack you?" Grissom couldn't bring himself to say_ rape._

There was a long silence. Grissom sucked in a breath when she finally said in a faint voice, "Yes."

He waited, not daring to move or speak.

"The summer before my eighteenth birthday. My modeling trip to Italy, you remember?" He nodded into her hair. "I'm sure you've heard the stereotypes of Italian men. The reality is worse. It was nonstop." She took a breath.

"Wolf whistles, crowds of men watching me walk by, calling me all kinds of names, guys pinching my butt, propositioning me..._Bella...ti voglio andare a letto con tu...voglio fare amore...bellisima donna...sesso_," she recited flatly.

"What's that mean?"

"Beautiful. I want to go to bed with you. I want to make love. Very beautiful woman. Sex. It sounds more romantic in their language–did you know there's no word for 'fuck' in Italian?" He shook his head. "Me neither."

She made a wry face. "I learned all that before I knew how to order a pizza. I'd get on a crowded bus, and there was always some creep rubbing his dick up against me. I learned to stomp on their feet. Ha. Served them right."

Sara pushed herself to her feet and paced the floor angrily.

"So. This one night. I..." she bit her lip and tossed her hair back impatiently.

"It was a long night, and I was pretty tired. I was wearing a dress and heels and my feet hurt. I went into a bar, to rest, and unwind a little. I ordered an Amaretto, and it went right to my head. I hadn't eaten all day–needed to fit into my modeling clothes, you know? It was one of those dark, smoky little places that looked like it hadn't changed in 500 years. A couple of middle-aged men, some drunk guys in the back, and a Lothario who insisted on buying me drinks. Eventually I left."

Grissom sat with his hands on his knees, watching her pace up and down, with pain and sympathy in his eyes.

"I remember the sound of my shoes on the cobblestones. I felt a prickling up my neck. I knew I was being followed, but I couldn't see him clearly. It was a dark narrow street, lots of shadows, and nobody else around. When I saw he was a lot closer, I started to run." Sara's breathing became erratic, caught up in the memory.

"It was like he was waiting for me to run. Like a dog chases a cat when it runs. He caught me quickly. I didn't have a chance with those fucking high heels. He threw me against a stone wall. Short guy, built like an ape. He reeked of garlic and sweat and beer and he was strong. I struggled, and he hit me a couple of times in the face. Busted my lip. Gave me a black eye and a bloody nose. I tried to kick him in the balls, and that made him really angry. He banged my head against the wall and I fell down."

Sara sat down in the armchair and hugged her knees.

"Next thing I knew, I was lying in the dirty street and he had my hands pinned up over my head. He told me I was a _puta_, whore, and _schifo_, dirty and disgusting. He covered my mouth with his filthy mouth, so my screams were muffled. It was the 1980's and he told me he didn't want to get AIDS. So he...brought himself off in his velour track pants, lying on top of me and rubbing himself on my body. I thought that would be it."

"Oh no, no such luck. He clamped his hand over my mouth, hissing at me to shut up, while he ripped off my underwear. Then he...uh...took something out, a bottle or a pipe or something...and...violated me with it."

"Jesus Sara." Grissom was aghast.

"I bit his hand, and he slapped me until I passed out again. When I came to, I was alone, and he'd taken my purse. I didn't have a dime. So I couldn't take a taxi, or make a phone call, and I couldn't figure out where I was or how to get home. It seemed to take days. I must have looked like something from a horror movie. Blood running down my legs, face all beat up, ripped clothes, cuts and bruises...I threw my shoes away and my feet got cut up too."

Sara buried her face in her hands and cried. Grissom awkwardly held her small slender hand, remembering the last time they'd had this sort of conversation.

"Sara? Can I hold you?"

"Not right now. I, uh...I need a shower." She disappeared into the bathroom and the water ran for a long time. Grissom ordered Chinese and when Sara came out in a bathrobe she saw, and smiled at him with her eyes. They ate quietly and she started to look better, though her eyes were still rimmed with red.

Between delicate bites of lo mein, Sara said softly, "That was a rough one, huh."

"Yeah." Grissom looked at her with softness in his eyes.

"That's the worst of it. No other rapes. No more trauma, no more drama." They both sighed.

"Good. The emotions that story brought up–well, I'm not used to it. I want so badly to kill that fucker. With my bare hands."

"Get in line." They smiled.

"Jesus Sara, you're the strongest woman I ever met. All that you've gone through." His eyes were honest and filled with admiration.

"Yeah, well. I must have done some horrible shit in a previous life, to have this karma."

"Do you believe in past lives?" Gil asked, curious.

"Sometimes. Huh. I've had some weird experiences–flashbacks. Some other day we'll go into that. I need to finish that story." Sara stood up, hugged herself, and held her chin in one hand, looking down.

He listened attentively.

"I finally found my door, and fell inside. My roommates were all home, thank God. They cleaned me up and brought me hot chocolate, and let me talk, or not talk, just hugging me and telling me it would be alright." Her expression warmed and her eyes were distant.

Sara's voice became hard. "I did everything wrong. I washed him off me. I threw my clothes in the trash. I didn't go to a hospital or the police. I never even reported it. My Italian flew out the window and I didn't want to talk about it, especially in a foreign language. I didn't even know the word for _rape_."

"Honey, you didn't do anything wrong. Nothing wrong. You were a victim."

"I know, I tell myself that too, but it doesn't seem to stick. So, I couldn't wait to get home, to America. To my language, my culture. An Italian exchange student told me, years later, that if a woman is walking around alone at night, she's considered...fair game. Only whores are out then. And if she goes into a bar...might as well have a sign on your neck saying Fuck Me. Only men go into bars, or dates, or married women, escorted. All the decent women are home, inside walls. Seriously. Women consider themselves possessions," she spat, "I suppose. Barbaric."

"I didn't even have work to fall back on. My face was a mess, and I had a big knot on my head, and a constant headache. I hurt like hell. My roommates took care of everything and I just stayed in bed for days. One of the girls talked to a photographer, and convinced him to take leg shots. Modeling shoes, that kind of thing. That made me feel better, and I was making money again. And then it came to an end. I flew home and started the next part of my life."

Gil stood and put his arms around her, holding her lightly until her body relaxed. She squeezed him tight and they stayed that way.

Summary of Chapter 6: Insights.

**CHAPTER SIX**

On a day not long after, Grissom and Sara lay in bed talking.

"Sara?"

"Yes?"

"Can I share some insights, from your story?"

"Sure."

"Okay, it's obvious where your emotional reaction to rape and domestic and sexual abuse cases comes from."

She nodded.

"And I'm glad you told me, so I won't be such an ass, when that happens." Sara smiled at him.

"I think, your interest in finding justice for these women started there, and for children too. As well as from all the abuse and violence you witnessed as a child. You want them to have closure because you didn't. You want to punish the perpetrators because your rapist wasn't."

She nodded in agreement.

"And I, uh, understand that you don't like domination, S/M, or being tied up, or hurting your partner, or being hurt."

Sara shook her head vigorously. "Yes. I don't understand that, at all." He agreed, and said he never wanted to hurt her.

"I understand that this can be healing for you, working these cases. I admire how driven you are to close them."

"Thanks."

"It amazes me, though, that you were able to trust men again."

"Well, I wasn't, for the longest time." When she paused and didn't go on, Grissom continued.

"It must have been your resilience, your ability to take whatever life throws at you, deal with it, and move on."

"Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger," Sara said firmly.

"Friedrich Nietzsche. Exactly."

"So that's why you are such a natural, such a gifted criminalist."

"Thank you," Sara said, pleased.

"You always had an interest in science, like me. So you use your intelligence, and that interest, along with your other talents, like being observant and persistent and focused and thoughtful, with your intuitive ability to read people and interpret evidence, in your desire to do your best with every case."

"Wow, Gil. I'm really flattered."

"I mean it."

"Thanks."

"You can be playful, and find some humor in our grim work, and that helps when I take myself too seriously." Sara grinned. "The enthusiasm you have, the way your eyes brighten when you find something, the way your face lights up when you crack a case, makes me feel such satisfaction, pride, and makes it such a pleasure to work with you. Knowing that if I'm stumped, you will be able to pick up the trail and I can follow, that's very comforting. And your smile lights up the room." She gave him the famous Sidle smile, and he brightened.

"You know I love working with you too. We're a great team," Sara told him.

"Yes, we are. We could kick ass with any other CSIs in the country."

Sara laughed and hugged him.

"You never had a family, so you were always seeking a family, that you can trust and that trusts you. And, happily, you found one here, first with the team, and now with me. A home. You need order, because your childhood was chaotic. You were drawn to law enforcement, because your sense of safety was violated. You look for justice, because you never had any. You seek honesty, because you've been betrayed."

Sara looked deeply at him, recognizing the truth in his words.

"You found your identity by learning, through books and studying and knowledge. You didn't want the superficial satisfaction of feeling admired just because of your beauty. Your brains were more important, and more lasting. You wanted to contribute something important. Your work brought you respect and self-worth. So you're just as much a workaholic as I am."

"Good thing, huh? If you were a workaholic and I was a lazy bum, I don't think it would have worked," Sara said lightly.

They chuckled, then paused in thought.

"Hey, I've been thinking too," Sara announced.

"I'm listening," Grissom said, interested.

"Well, you were abandoned by your father, when you were very young. So it's only natural that you have major issues with trust. When your stepfather came into your life, it was like your life began again, there was love and trust in your home again, and your mother was happy. But then he was taken away, so quickly, and you were lost. And abandoned."

"Yes."

"And no one would tell you why. You are a man who always seeks the truth, the science before the emotion, and when it is denied you, you get extremely frustrated."

"True."

"So you had to find out about death, learn about it on your own, perform necropsies and autopsies, since those you trusted didn't tell you, probably for that misguided rationale of 'protecting' you."

"Good point."

"I don't get that. Children need to know that death is a natural part of life, not that someone they love has 'gone to sleep' or is 'in heaven, looking down on them.' That's creepy as hell."

Grissom agreed.

"You became a coroner. You were young, right?"

"Yes. I was 22. The youngest coroner in California," Grissom said, with a hint of pride.

"And you couldn't be just an average coroner. You are above and beyond average in everything you do, or are interested in.. You're gifted, in so many ways."

"Thank you," Gil said, flattered.

"But, cutting up dead bodies, it wasn't enough for you, after a while. You needed to go back to where it all happened, figure it out, pick up the clues, do experiments and re-enactments, to understand everything you could about a crime. And each case teaches you something more, so you naturally want to pass on that knowledge to students."

"Yes. You understand."

"You aren't interested in money, or status, or material possessions, or ambition," Sara continued. "You seek justice, the truth, the factual science, the where and the what and the how and the when and the who, and sometimes the why. You're curious, like the best scientists are, and your interest in insects dovetailed well with finding out what happened to victims. So it was a natural progression for you to get your Ph.D. in Forensic Entomology."

He nodded in agreement.

"You were abandoned twice, once by choice and once by fate. And kids always seem to think it was their fault, when marriages break up, or someone special dies. There's some residual, misguided, guilt there, I think. But more importantly, deep down, you believe that anyone you love will leave you, abandon you, break your heart again. You don't feel worthy of being completely loved and accepted."

"Wow. You're so right, Sara," Grissom said, admiringly.

"So we're back to trust again. Your heart says to trust, but your head is yelling at you that you can't, you shouldn't. Fortunately, you could trust your mother, and admire her. She always loved and encouraged you, so you can admire women, particularly strong women, and respect them without chauvinism. Well, maybe a little over-protectiveness sometimes, but that's because you are a gentleman."

Sara smiled at him, and he grinned back a little sheepishly, his eyes shining.

"That woman, whoever she was, that broke your heart, left you damaged. She abandoned you and betrayed your trust, so you were back to square one. As an adult, though, you were able to build up your walls. You locked your heart away for years, and resolved, perhaps even consciously, that you would never let yourself be so vulnerable again."

Grissom looked down. "Yes. I did."

"You weren't easy, that's for sure! I had to chip away at your walls, bit by bit, and whenever there was a breach, you pushed me away."

Grissom nodded sadly.

"I was discouraged, at times, and hurt, but I couldn't give up. I just knew. I knew you were the man for me, and if I had to wait and try and get knocked down, hell, it was all worth it. I had to do everything I could to make you trust me, to stay strong and patient, to help you let your guard down, and to get you to notice me."

"You were hard not to notice, dear," Grissom said sincerely. "I was smitten, and oh so attracted, from day one. I just couldn't believe that you could possibly see what you did in me. I never felt worthy of you. Sometimes I still don't."

"If I tell you I love you every day, will that help?"

"Couldn't hurt." Grissom chuckled into her mouth and she had to pull away and laugh.

Summary of Chapter 7: Things go sour.

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Their sessions in trust were healing, but they had some unexpected consequences. That Grissom had opened up and revealed more in a short time than he had ever before in his entire life, plus Sara's revelations to him, brought up a maelstrom of emotions and left him overwhelmed. He became withdrawn and quiet again, trying to sort through it all. Sara needed him, needed his reassurance, and his stony silence frustrated her.

Nightmares, terrible ones, disrupted their sleep. Grissom's dreams were of helplessness–Sara was being attacked and he couldn't help her. Or he could hear her screams but couldn't find her. He kept dreaming there was blood on his hands.

Sara dreamed vividly of her rape and other events that she had buried in her psyche. She would wake up, thrashing and screaming, and wouldn't let Gil touch her or hold her. He felt impotent and she felt angry and neither of them was getting any real sleep. They were irritable all the time. The vulnerability they felt made them resent each other. They were spending 24 hours a day together and their needs for solitude and quiet reflection were denied. Sara and Grissom were getting on each other's nerves. Sara said she needed to go back to her apartment for awhile and Gil made no effort to stop her. They both felt relieved, but worried that the separation would push them apart further.

It didn't help that Ecklie was being more of an asshole than usual, sniffing around and trying to confirm that they were a couple. It didn't help that Catherine was clearly angling for Grissom's job, and that she seemed to have enlisted Conrad to help her. It didn't help that Greg was being particularly loud and annoying, or that Nick was needy and craving approval from Grissom, and that Warrick was distant and seemed to be phoning it in. The tight team was splintering and Grissom didn't know how to fix it.

Sara came over to the townhouse one night to talk to him. A simple disagreement escalated into a knock-down-drag-out fight. They were screaming at each other and slamming around the living room.

Finally Sara yelled, "What the hell are we fighting about!?"

"I don't know!! I can't remember." They were standing at opposite ends of the room, glaring at each other and visibly trying to rein in their emotions.

"Look." Sara said. "We need to vent. This is a lot of shit to process, and this is not the way to deal with it. We're about to say stuff we will regret."

"You're right, Sara. Sorry. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, honey." They relaxed visibly.

"I'm going to make myself a drink. Would you like one?"

"Sure." Sara smiled a little and they sat together and sipped their drinks.

"Let's promise–we'll always be friends, okay?" Sara asked softly.

"I'd like that. Very much. Coworkers, we seem to be very good at that, and you've always been a real professional and a gift to the lab." Sara smiled at him. "Lovers, roommates, well, that is all kind of new to us. To me. We need to adjust, at least I do."

"Me too, honey."

"I've always lived alone. I didn't live in a dorm in college, and I'm used to being by myself. I grew up in a silent house and didn't have siblings or a lot of close friends."

"I understand. Really. I've always been very independent too, and I've lived alone since I became an adult. I respect that you need space, and solitude sometimes. I'll tell you when I need mine, and you do the same, okay?"

He nodded and took her hand. "I promise to be your friend, Sara."

"I promise to always be your friend too, Gil." They smiled, and Grissom gave her a little kiss.

"I love you, you big lug."

He chuckled. "Love you too, pookie." Sara giggled.

"Thanks, shnookums."

"You too, honey bear." They chuckled.

Grissom sighed deeply and lay back on the couch and pulled Sara alongside him. They were still too worked up to go to bed but needed the comfort and reassurance of holding each other. After a long time of comfortable silence, both fell asleep. Grissom woke up after a few hours, stiff, and woke Sara gently and took her to bed.

Summary of Chapter 8: Road trip!

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Grissom recognized that they needed a change of scenery, to get away and ease some of the tension and escape the aggravating office politics, at least for a while. Sara agreed whole-heartedly. They scheduled some time off, eight days, Sara taking some vacation for once and saying she had some family business to take care of–which was true. Grissom said he was going to race roaches and ride rollercoasters in a different part of the country. Only Brass knew where they were and Grissom knew he could trust him. Brass had figured out their secret early on and had kept it to himself. Though they had never talked about it much, he privately told them both how happy he was to see them together, at last.

Grissom left Catherine in charge of the night shift and told Brass to keep an eye on her, and the rest of the team. Grissom sat down with Catherine and read her the riot act, saying firmly that she wasn't the boss, she was just filling in, and reminding her of all the times she had screwed up and he had covered for her. She was suitably chastened and when she wandered out he heaved a big sigh of relief and called his mom. She was thrilled to hear he was coming to visit and bringing the famous Sara Sidle too.

He told all of his CSIs that he didn't want to hear about any cases or get any requests for advice, telling them that they were big boys and girls and needed to deal with everything without relying on him so much. He needed a break. Grissom handed out the assignments for the night and left without another word, heading home to take his girlfriend on vacation. He smiled to himself.

Sara packed carefully. They had never gone away together and this was a big step. She was looking forward to meeting Grissom's mother, though she was very nervous too. She'd never had a man take her home to meet his mother. Sara worried that Grissom's silent treatment would continue, which would make such a long road trip unbearable. They drove Grissom's big comfortable Mercedes, heading west, to Venice, California.

Sara and Grissom took turns driving the next morning and letting the other rest. Grissom was silent for the most part and Sara's anxiety grew. Gil, her boyfriend, and Grissom, her boss, were intimidating. He didn't invite or initiate personal conversations easily. That he had already done so much soul-searching and sharing was painful for him, she knew. And the fight had left her frightened. Sara shifted and fidgeted nervously.

Grissom was aware of her. He too was emotionally paralyzed. If this started badly one or the other could easily end up on the side of the road, breathing in the dust of the receding Mercedes. _At least neither of us is wearing a raccoon suit_..._Maybe I can start there. Humor is a good ice-breaker._

"At least neither one of us is wearing a raccoon suit."

"What!" Sara yelped. "I mean what are you talking about!..._Raccoon_...I don't get it..." She started making desperate attempts to breathe. Gil reached over to pat her arm and she flinched.

"I'm trying to drive here!" Sara said, nearly panicked.

"Honey-- pull over."

"I can't!–-there's a semi–-and a concrete barrier."

"Sweetie. I won't touch you. Breathe. Put on your flashers and pull over as soon as you can."

Sara was fighting and willing herself not to hyperventilate. Mechanically, she did as Grissom instructed, put on her flashers, eased off the accelerator, and let everyone pass. After five minutes, all the traffic had passed and there was a dirt shoulder. The car ground to a halt. Sara released her seatbelt and stared at her shaking hands.

Grissom said in his most soothing voice, "I'm sorry babe. Don't...please don't...panic...I was trying to make a joke...a bad one...remember that case with the furries? and the fluff pile and the guy in the blue cat suit that walked through the police station?...I worked it with Catherine..." At every word, Sara's breathing eased and when he said "joke" she nearly choked and grinned nervously, trying to will herself to laugh, not puke. She rolled down her window and scrabbled for a water bottle.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything." Sara said in a flat voice. _God! I'm going nuts...or he already is_...

"Catherine told me about when couples fight in a car, one of them usually ends up a the side of the road...it happened with her and Eddie..." Grissom gave a lopsided grin at her, trying to get her to look at him.

Sara chuckled nervously.

"We're uh we're uh, not fighting are we? God I hate fighting I hate fighting with you Grissom...No fights, we promised to be friends, friends don't I don't want to..."

Grissom was talking over her and continued until she looked at him. "No, no, sorry, we're not fighting, I don't want to fight with you–never-- I was just trying to lighten the...air...head off an argument...make a bad joke...that silly case made me...reminded me...Friends yes...God you've got me rambling now!"

They both started giggling like little kids. Sara punched him hard on the arm. He snickered. She smacked him on the back of the head and he gave an exaggerated yelp.

"Don't ever do that again–I nearly ran into a ditch, you ass..."

"I noticed! Jeez I was scared."

"You should be! You...furry blue raccoon you." Now they were both genuinely grinning.

"I've been called worse."

"No kidding. That's what you get for sneaking around the lab so silently," she told him. "God, how do you do that? Materialize in a doorway? At the most embarrassing moment?"

Grissom shook his head. "If all of you guys would work for a change instead of..."

"_I work!_ The guys gossip like a bunch of old women...damn henhouse," Sara snickered and he joined her until they stopped tussling.

They talked a little about what they were internally going through after their revelations and that helped ease their minds. Grissom knew he needed to make an effort to be more honest and open and he was trying. Sara recognized how hard it was.

"You can't teach an old dog new tricks," he told her.

"Actually, that's not true. Dogs will learn at any stage of their lives. They just need direction and reassurance."

"And a woman's advice."

Sara chuckled. "Yeah. Sometimes. I don't want to change you, Gil. Or turn you into someone you're not. I just need..."

"Communication."

She sighed with relief. "That's it. We've danced around each other for so long, expecting the other to read our minds. It doesn't work. I need to know what you want and what you're thinking and what you're afraid of."

"Losing you."

"That's my greatest fear too." They both became deadly serious. Sara thought for a few minutes. "Doing the job we do, it forces us to confront our mortality on a daily basis. I know you could be killed...."

"And you almost have been..." Grissom added.

"So have you. Not that we need to dwell on that, but we do need to acknowledge it. So what else are you afraid of?"

"That you will leave me," he said heavily.

"Oh, honey. How can I tell you this? You are my one and only. I love you."

"I love you too, Sara. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I just...it would destroy me if you left."

"Then I won't."

Grissom had to smile at that. He took her hand and kissed her palm, looking into those glistening, passionate brown eyes. Then he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. They smiled and she pecked him on the lips.

"Okay! Enough of the heavy stuff. I'm a guy and we don't do this." They chuckled.

"Deal."

With the tension lifted and blown out the window, Sara got out a CD of Norah Jones and put it on. Grissom got into the driver's seat and pulled out on I-15. They listened to the music and chatted about this and that. Grissom called his mom when they stopped for lunch and told her they were going to be another night–or maybe two.

"Neither of us has taken a real vacation in years," he told her through the operator.

"That's fine, dear. Let me know when you get closer."

"Love you Mom."

"Love you too, son. Bye now."

Both turned their cell phones off and resolved to only check for messages once a day. Not wanting to hurry, they stopped at a nice hotel near the border of California. They swam happily in the big swimming pool under the stars, had a lavish dinner, and made love with wild abandon. When both were rested, they made love again, slowly and passionately. It was a perfect night, made even sweeter because they hadn't been together since things went sour.

The next morning's drive was less comfortable. It was muggy and hot and the sun beat down relentlessly. Sara had a headache from the sun, as she'd forgotten her sunglasses. The traffic got worse as the day went on, it was a Friday and the roads were choked with tourists.

Grissom got off the highway at random and drove into a grove of pine trees. He pulled off at a rest stop and opened the door, saying he needed to stretch his legs. The air was instantly cooler and fragrant with pine. Sara followed willingly and they strolled through the trees. Grissom automatically shifted into bug collector mode, scoping out what was an unusual habitat for him. When they agreed they needed a longer walk, Grissom went back to his car and got his knapsack and locked up.

They saw red crossbills and wondered at their corkscrew beaks. He told Sara about woolly adelgid beetles and the death of the massive chestnut forests and elm trees. It was melancholy under the dark quiet trees, but not sad. Sara told him what she'd read about the extinction of the passenger pigeon, and what Audubon wrote; of the skies blackened for days by their flight and the broken tree limbs from their crowded roosts. The last of the species died alone in a cage at a zoo. They talked about bison, and dodos, and species lost before they were discovered. They walked and talked for hours.

Sara and Grissom came to a rocky bluff that overlooked a quiet forest. There was not a sign of man, other than some jet trails in the sky. Grissom picked some tiny blue wildflowers and gave them to her gravely. She found some feathers and put them in his hair. He shook them out and she laughed. Sara and Grissom sat on big granite boulders and looked out over the view. The sun was going down.

Grissom broke the long silence softly. "We could sleep out here tonight. My mom's not expecting us yet, I was a little vague and told her I'd let her know from the road, once we were on the way."

"I'd like that. I've never been camping."

"Never?" he said with surprise, then instantly realized why. "Sara, I'd like to do a lot of things with you and for you that no one's done for you before. I'd like to buy you silly gifts and pretty jewelry and go on cruises and trips into the wilderness and watch you do up your hair and zip up your dresses." Sara laughed.

"You'll spoil me."

"No, dear. I'll treat you. Treat you like a lady."

She giggled charmingly. "Do ladies sleep with their gentlemen, and make love in a pine forest?"

"These do." He pulled her to him and kissed her, long and passionately.

"Do you need anything?" he asked her.

"Only you." Sara pulled him down for a toe-curling kiss. They lay together and made love for the first time in the woods.

Later, they stirred and gathered firewood before dark, there was plenty around and it was easy to burn. Grissom made a tidy fire circle with rocks and when the cheerful fire was going, he wandered around snapping off big green pine branches.

"Whatcha doing?" Sara asked, curious.

"Making a bed. Boy Scout style." He grinned at her suddenly and the years on his face melted away. "Making our love nest."

Sara laughed and he joined with his deep chuckle.

"Okay. What should I do?" she asked.

"You could go back to that stream and fill our water bottles."

"I can handle that." Used as they were to working under harsh conditions and in remote locations, day and night, Grissom had thrown his small knapsack on his back, so they had matches, water bottles, a space blanket, a flashlight, a waterproof poncho, a few granola bars, a compass, some basic bug collecting equipment, his cell phone with spare batteries, and a flannel shirt. Sara had her trusty Maglite in her pocket, a sweatshirt tied around her waist, a Swiss pocket knife, and a lighter. They had everything they needed, and each other.

Grissom gathered a big pile of firewood and saw the bobbing light of Sara returning with the water. They both polished off one and Grissom shyly walked a good distance away to pee, which Sara found endearing. They settled on their stomachs on the pine boughs and told each other stories, their eyes dancing in the firelight. Grissom rolled them up in the foil blanket like a burrito and Sara giggled. He held her chilly hands over his heart, under his soft shirt, and they fell asleep to the hooting of owls.

Summary of Chapter 9: Animal adventures.

**CHAPTER NINE**

Sara woke up first, in the crisp hours of dawn, unused to sleeping on the ground, cushioned as it was. A tree root seemed to have grown overnight and was poking her in the ribs. She felt dirty and sticky with sap and craved coffee and real food. Grissom had her tightly encircled in his arms and legs and she poked him impatiently. His soft snore stopped abruptly and his blue eyes were bewildered before he released her. She grumbled and muttered under her breath, but grinned when he told her she was beautiful with brown hair adorned with pine needles.

Sara wandered back to the stream and cleaned up as best she could, gasping when she tossed the icy water on her face. She dragged her fingers through her curly hair, rinsed out her mouth, and felt a little better. As she neared their campsite, Grissom heard the crunching of her feet on the pine needles and made a shushing gesture. There was a cute little chipmunk sitting up on a rock, not three feet away from him, and peering at him curiously. Grissom cautiously opened a granola bar and held a piece out. The chipmunk hopped closer, tilted his head, and took it, jumping back to its perch and nibbling it. Sara had to laugh, and the chipmunk moved a little more away but now gazed at her curiously with its little black button eyes. They all had breakfast together.

Sara and Grissom tidied up their campsite thoroughly and Grissom carefully extinguished the fire, dousing it with all their water. They made their way back down to the parking lot easily, as both had a good sense of direction. They held hands a little and when the trail was narrow, he held the branches back from snapping in her face.

"I'm starved," Sara announced when they were on the road again.

"Me too."

They stopped at the first restaurant they saw and ordered heaping plates of fried eggs and hash browns and blueberry muffins and toast and jelly, with sausage and gravy (for Gris) and bottomless cups of coffee and juice. Sara laughed at that little chipmunk. They agreed it had probably never seen a human before. Grissom told her funny stories of previous encounters with wildlife; a moose that had gazed at him with mutual shock when he heard rustling and parted some branches, their faces only feet apart. Moose and man instantly took off in opposite directions. Then there was a skunk that wandered into his Boy Scout campsite and settled in for hours, nibbling marshmallows, despite the boys' frantic whisperings and urgent needs to pee. Sara giggled helplessly.

Sara told him of nursing a baby squirrel until he was old enough to be released, but he would return to her balcony in San Francisco and take peanuts from her hand.

"My only pet."

"That's such a shame, dear." He held her hands across the table. "Everyone should have the love of an animal in their lives. What kind would you get, if you had a choice?"

"A dog," she answered quickly. "A good-sized dog, not an ankle biter or a massive sheepdog or something. One the size of German shepherd or a boxer or a Lab or a mutt. One of my foster homes had two yellow Labs, mixed with who knows what, and the female would sleep with me sometimes. It was nice to feel that solid warm body."

She sighed, then brightened. "Kind of like you."

He grinned at her, and filed that information away for later. "So I'm a dog, huh?"

"No, you're a fox."

"Then you're a monkey." She stuck her tongue out at him and he grinned.

"Then you're a bear. A big teddy bear." He snorted.

"You're a swan." She giggled.

"You're a hedgehog." Sara smirked.

"A what? A hedgehog?" Grissom choked out between laughs.

"Yeah. Prickly, but soft inside."

"Huh! You're a giraffe."

"Hey! The bullies called me that in school. No fair."

"Oops. Sorry, dear. Okay, you're a...Thoroughbred filly."

"Better." Sara giggled. "You're a...wolf."

"The better to eat you, my dear." Grissom leaned in close and she pursed her lips. "You're a honeybee." He started singing low and sexily, _I'm your king bee, baby, buzzin' around your hive_... Sara pinched his cheek and kissed him to stop the teasing, she was laughing too hard.

Waiting for his change, Grissom pulled out his cell phone and listened to his accumulated messages. Grissom held the phone so they could both listen. One from Greg, though he seemed to remember mid-message whatever it was he needed to do with his dilemma and he trailed off awkwardly. They chuckled. A short one from Nick, just checking in, and an obnoxious one from Hodges, relating dramatically the way the lab was being handled in his absence. A short message from Brass, warning Gil that Catherine was in a state and they would probably hear from her soon. Sure enough, the next incoming, not two minutes later, was a tirade from Ms. Willows, promising painful and anatomically impossible retribution for his leaving all his paperwork for her, various complaints, and the beginnings of a long rambling speech about her trials with Lindsay. Grissom erased that mid-message and all the others and they smirked at each other.

"The kids miss us, dear."

He snorted. "Too bad for them."

Heading out again, Gil took slow scenic back roads and called his mother through TTD when they stopped for a light lunch of salad and a glass of white wine. Mrs. Grissom was expecting them that evening, after six. Grissom changed his shirt and trousers in the men's room, shaved, and ducked his head in the sink to settle his unruly hair. Sara washed and tidied herself up and changed her clothes in the restroom, and came out to the car looking nervous.

"What's wrong, hon?

"Your mom, um, do I need to know sign language?"

He smiled reassuringly. "No, she reads lips well and can speak, though it is a little hard to understand until you're used to it. Don't worry, she'll love you. It's not like she's never heard of you before."

"Oh, really?" Sara drawled.

"Yes." Sara was charmed to see his ears pinken. "I've been talking about you for years, ever since San Francisco."

"Hmm. Care to share now?"

"Oh, you know. Beautiful, charming, leggy brunette, too young and smart for an oaf like me...a handful..."

"A loose cannon?" Sara was giggling.

"Definitely," Grissom teased. "A loose cannon with a _gun_. Trouble with a capital T. My star pupil, a thorn in my side, my brilliant CSI, a pain in my..." she smacked him lightly and poked him in the ribs and he tried to tickle her. When she squirmed away he took her hand and kissed it. They drove the rest of the way to his old neighborhood holding hands.

Summary of Chapter 10: Meeting Mom.

**CHAPTER TEN**

Grissom pointed out his personal landmarks, his high school, where the first girl he kissed had lived, a big park where he used to net butterflies and collect beetles, the public library, not noticing that Sara was getting more and more anxious.

Finally she gasped out, "Can you stop at that gas station, please?"

"Of course." He pulled in and she was out of the car with her bag before he could say a waited patiently, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and listening to the ping of the radiator. Finally she emerged, looking upset.

"What is it, honey?"

"I, uh, I got my period."

"So? Why should that bother you?"

"I don't know, really. It's the cramps, and the hormones, and the butterflies in my stomach...it's just the combination, I guess."

"I thought that since you started on that birth control, your periods were lighter and shorter..."

"Gilbert!" _Uh oh._ "If you ever want to have sex again I suggest you put a cork in it, _NOW_."

"Yes, dear."

"Men!" Sara said, exasperated. "Think they know goddamn _everything_," she muttered darkly. "Scientists. Like they have any idea what a woman goes through..."

He gave her his best puppy dog eyes. _Not fair. He knows I can't resist that look._

Seeing his expression, she thawed a little, after glaring at him. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Please, honey, relax. My mom doesn't bite. And she'll understand, she's a woman."

"I know." She took a deep breath and blew it out. "Thanks."

"No problem. Ready?"

"Uh, can you show me how to say hello?'

He signed for her and she got it perfectly after two tries.

"See? You're a natural. I'll teach you more. Here. This means, 'I love you.'"

She copied the fluid motions of his hands.

"Good. Now we can tell each other that at the lab," he told her. She giggled.

He tilted his head in that endearing way and she nodded, and they drove to his mother's house, a white ranch with lots of big shade trees to one side and a pretty garden, all abloom. He held her hand up the tiled walk and the door flew open before they reached it.

"Gilbert!" A small round woman grabbed him and they hugged. Gil kissed the top of her head and he turned her, gesturing to Sara.

He spoke and signed quickly, "This is Sara, Mom. My girlfriend." _My girlfriend. I never tire of hearing that._

"Sara!" She was quickly enveloped in a warm hug. She was one of those women who seemed to be made of pillows, as short and plump and bright-eyed as a Carolina wren.

Sara pulled back a little and signed _Hello_, and added aloud, "Hello, Mrs. Grissom."

"Call me Abby, dear. Come inside." Sara liked her already and told Grissom so with her eyes as they followed the white-haired woman inside. He nodded, and mouthed, _See?_

Abby bustled about, chattering in the distinctive way of deaf people, swallowing some of the hard consonants. Sara remembered Dr. Gilbert at the deaf college and had no trouble understanding her. They were brought tall glasses of iced lemonade which they sipped gratefully.

Sara's eyebrows raised at the sharp sourness of the drink, and Abby said simply, "Fresh squeezed, dear, from the garden."

Sara said into her glass, "It's good. We don't have lemon trees in Vegas." She didn't respond. Grissom motioned that she should look directly at her, and she understood. Repeating herself, she watched Abby look at her lips, and got a pleased smile.

"No, I don't suppose you do. How you can live in that awful place..."

"Mother," Grissom groaned. Clearly they had had this discussion before.

"No, Gilbert. All that heat, the gambling, the crazies...it's a den of iniquity. Sodom and Gomorrah. Sin City."

"We're used to it, Mom." Gil silenced her with his hands and kissed her sweetly on the cheek. They chatted about less important things and Sara watched, charmed at his affectionate interaction with this lady, his dear mother.

Abby asked about their trip, and they told her of camping out, and the chipmunk, and the hotel with the swimming pool. She fetched a tray of cheeses and fruit and crackers, and they snacked as Abby Grissom brought them up to date on her activities, the art gallery, and the doings of old family friends. When there was a pause, Grissom fetched their luggage and his mom showed Sara the house, the guest room where they would be staying, with a big bed and fluffy brown comforter, and the bathroom, all in pale rose, with a deep claw-footed tub and prints of birds on the walls and a big window overlooking the backyard.

"I'll leave you to freshen up, dear. We'll be outside, on the patio." Sara smiled gratefully.

Sara took a much-needed long hot bath, pouring a little of the lavender bath oil atop the vanity into it. She shaved her legs and took two Midol and tied her hair up with a practiced twist and a hair tie. Sara smiled into the mirror and realized she felt at home. Changing into a long-sleeved T-shirt and her favorite butter-soft jeans in the bedroom, she retrieved a little gift-wrapped box and padded barefoot out to join them.

Grissom and Abby sat at a wrought iron table, close together, their hands gesturing with fluid ease. Occasionally he chuckled and she laughed. Sara stood in the doorway and watched for a few minutes. The waning sunlight was dappled over them and the sky was reddening. They were so alike, and she could see that the kindness in his eyes was the same as hers.

Grissom looked up and instantly rose to his feet. His breath caught at the casual beauty before him. Abby tugged his arm and said admiringly, "She's lovely, dear."

"Yes, she is. A vision of beauty." Sara beamed at him, and he stepped forward and kissed her sweetly.

Sara gave Abby the little box and watched as she opened it. A slim volume of poetry, with illustrations of birds and animals.

Abby turned it over in her hands, clearly touched, her eyes glittering. "Thank you, Sara."

Grissom whispered in Sara's ear, "That was a lovely thing to do. You always surprise me, honey. Thank you." She shrugged.

His mother excused herself and disappeared into the kitchen, and the couple listened to the distant clangs and rattles of pans and running water. They held hands and smiled at each other and exchanged soft kisses.

"Gilbert? Come set the table." Sara smiled to herself. She liked hearing him called _Gilbert_, even if it sounded more like _Gilber_. He rose obediently and Sara watched the deepening twilight, the twinkling of fireflies, and the swooping chimney swifts and circling nighthawks. Grissom called her in and they sat in yellow lamplight, the table set with cheery painted earthenware, with a little cut glass bowl of grated Parmesan and a silver spoon, and ate spaghetti marinara with fresh green salad and breadsticks and drank a bottle of Pinot Grigio. Sara complimented her cooking and her lovely home and good taste, and received sweet smiles.

"Gilbert? Go wash the dishes, dear. I want to talk to your young lady." He grumbled a little, but she silenced him with a look of determination and he did as she asked.

Abby asked Sara how they had met, and why she had moved to Vegas, and what Gil was like as a boss. Though she knew some of their history, she wanted to hear Sara's version. Sara opened up and told her of his seminar when she was a grad student, and the connection she felt, and how they had kept in touch and he had come to help out with cases at her crime lab in San Francisco. When he had called and asked for her help, she went the same day without a backward glance. She told Abby that he was a good man, a great criminalist, scientist, and teacher, and was admired and respected by everyone he worked with. Abby smiled with pride.

Sara told his mother of his long reluctance to get involved with her, and the lonely years, and Abby saw the sadness and pain in her eyes. She laid her small soft hand on Sara's and let her speak. Sara told her of how some of their friends had nearly died at the hands of lunatics and criminals, Nick kidnapped and Greg beaten and Brass shot, and that amidst that trauma they had found each other.

"You love him." Abby said simply, when her story ended.

"With all my heart."

"He loves you. He's been in love with you for years. I kept telling him to get off his butt and do something, but he's as stubborn as a damn mule." Sara grinned.

"Honestly, I wondered at times if he knew the facts of life, or was a virgin, or gay."

Sara gave a short bark of surprised laughter. "Yes, no, and no." The women chuckled.

"Gil is handsome and charming, and has his pick of lovely ladies in Las Vegas. We've talked about his...past, though I don't know everything," Sara told her.

"He's been hurt, you know."

"I do."

"But you brought him joy again. And love. He's different now, and better."

"Thank you."

Grissom came in, wiping his hands on a dishtowel, then tossing it over his shoulder. "Anything else, Mother? Should I clean the gutters, or change the oil in your car, or wash the windows?" The women giggled at his petulance.

"No, dear. We're done, for now. I think I'll go to bed and read some of that lovely book that Sara gave me. There's cheesecake in the fridge, if you want." She gave Sara another pillowy hug and kissed Grissom goodnight. Abby puttered off to bed and they were left in comfortable silence.

Grissom made decaf coffee and Sara sliced a generous piece of cheesecake and took two forks and joined Grissom on the couch with the coffee and they shared it.

"I like her."

"She likes you too. Has she brought up the topic of the next generation of Grissoms yet?"

Sara giggled. "No, not yet."

"Tomorrow then. I guarantee. She's already picturing you in a white wedding gown, then big with child, I can tell."

Sara's eyes widened. They'd never talked about marriage or children.

"No," she said lightly, "but she said you were as stubborn as a damn mule."

"Yes, that sounds like her. If I'd listened, I could have saved you a lot of pain."

"Not now, Gil. We're together, and I'm happy."

"Me too, honey." They kissed, and it deepened.

"Come to bed."

Grissom spooned up against her, the warmth of his body soothing the cramps in her lower back. She wriggled closer to him and held his arm across her chest, his hand to her heart. They awoke a few hours later, as their body clocks were awry, and Gil was softly kissing her neck, his erection pressed against her buttocks.

"Gil?"

"Mmm?" he said, kissing her pale shoulder.

"Your mother..."

"Can't hear us."

"Oh. Good point."

"Was this your childhood bedroom?" Sara asked, still feeling a little strange about it.

"No. My mom moved here a few years ago. No stairs, so it's easier on her knees and arthritis. We lived in a bigger house a few miles away, and this one is easier to care for."

"Okay. Good. So I'm the first woman you've brought here?"

"You're the only woman I ever cared enough about to bring home."

"Thanks."

"Sara?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"Love you too, honey." They kissed with warmth and tenderness.

"May I?"

"Yes," she answered simply, both knowing what he wanted to do, as lovers know, that have gone through a woman's cycles. He stripped off his pajamas and removed her top, kissed her passionately on the neck and shoulders and back, and stroked her breasts lightly, as he knew they were sensitive. After spooning up behind her, Gil guided his hard cock between her flannel-covered thighs and rubbed it gently along her folds. She gripped him tightly between her legs and brushed her thumb across the tip. He groaned loudly and she murmured and Grissom sped up his thrusts, until he cried out his need and his love and her name. He came in a warm rush between her thighs and a spurt on the sheets.

When he had pulled away, Sara turned in his arms and kissed him deeply, letting her tongue explore his mouth and play with his. Naked, he went to the small bathroom adjoining and returned with a hand towel. He cleaned up the wetness on the bed and she changed.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. That you awaken and desire me, I have no complaints. After all, there's times when I do too." They smiled at the memories of the creative ways Sara had wished him _Good morning._ Snuggling happily, Sara and Grissom fell asleep.

Summary of Chapter 11: Sunday with Abby

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Abby Grissom was up early the next morning, and Sara and Grissom smelled the coffee brewing before they heard her stirring. They showered and dressed in comfortable clothes and joined her for a simple breakfast of cereal with fresh strawberries and juice.

"Gilbert?"

"Yes, Mom?"

"It's Sunday. Would you and Sara like to join me for Mass?"

"I don't know, Mom..." He sounded reluctant.

"We'd love to, Abby," Sara said quickly, and he glanced at her, surprised.

They retreated to the guest bedroom and Sara dug through her suitcase for something to wear.

"Are you sure, dear?"

"Yes. It's important to her. Really, I don't mind."

He turned and brightened when he saw her, dressed in a sleeveless cream sundress with a red and yellow pattern that looped and tied around the back of her neck, and simple sandals. _Hmm, no bra. Just a tug, and those lovely breasts exposed...Down, boy._ He kissed her and gave her compliments and rubbed her arms.

Grissom grumbled, saying he didn't have a suit with him, and Sara pointed out that a dress shirt and nice trousers would do. She asked if there were any of his father's ties around and he gave her an odd look and nodded. She heard him ask his mother and he came back with a few choices and Sara helped him pick one out, that, she said, brought out the blue in his eyes. Grissom smiled.

As he was knotting his tie, Gil explained.

"After my stepfather died, my mom would still buy him a gift every Christmas. She would wrap it up and put it under the tree, and in the morning, it would be unwrapped and the tie or the sweater or whatever it was would be hanging in the closet."

Sara nodded sadly and wrapped her arms around him from behind. He stroked her arms.

"We all deal with grief in different ways."

"I suppose," Grissom answered. "Thank you, dear."

"For what?"

"For being here. For being you. For everything."

"My pleasure." He turned and kissed her, and before it got passionate she gave him a little shove.

"We'll be late for church."

"Wow, does that sound familiar." She chuckled.

Abby emerged, all dressed up and powdered and delicately scented with Chanel No. 5, wearing a little round brimless straw hat that suited her. She offered Sara a light scarf.

"Yes, I know. Women should cover their heads in church. One of my foster moms was a devout Catholic." Sara went to the mirror and tied it neatly around her head.

Abby nodded, and made a mental note to ask about her childhood later.

Abby surveyed her son. "You look very nice, dear. Wait." She rummaged in her closet and came out with a suit coat. "Try this on." It was too tight across the back and too short in the arms. Grissom had to struggle to get it off.

"Oh well," Abby said sadly. They all knew the coat had been her husband's.

"You're still my handsome son. I'm very proud to be seen with you and your beautiful young lady." They both smiled at her and Gil gave her a hug and a little kiss. Gil tidied out the Mercedes as Abby gave Sara's hand a squeeze.

"Thank you for coming with me."

"I'm honored. Gil and I have talked some about faith, and I know what you taught him is important to him. He said our job tests our faith, and it does, but it also helps when things are bad. He keeps a rosary in his desk." Abby gave a nod of satisfaction and Grissom held the doors open for them in turn.

Sara was impressed with St. Thomas Cathedral. It was built of stone, in the Gothic style, with high arches and narrow columns and fine stained glass windows. It didn't compete with the old churches of Europe, but it was striking. She followed the service, kneeling when they knelt and standing when everyone else did. Sara respectfully remained in her seat when the other congregants went up for Holy Communion. The priests conducted the service in Latin, and it interested her how much she understood, as Latin is such a part of the language of scientists. Sara gladly sang along with the hymns and when the service was over a tiny ancient woman gripped her wrist in bony fingers and told her she had a beautiful voice. Sara blushed and Grissom beamed and agreed.

Abby proudly introduced them to all her friends, which seemed to take forever. Gil was getting impatient, Sara noted, by the way he was tugging on his tie. Finally they wandered to their car and Grissom announced he was taking his two best girls out for lunch, and he told his mother to choose where. They went to a seafood place on a pier over the water and the sight and sounds and smells of the ocean made them Sara and Grissom sentimental. They had both grown up on the beach.

Grissom ordered lobster and launched into a lecture on lobsters, glancing at the ceiling.

"Spiny lobster. _Panulicus gracilis_. Member of the phylum Arthropoda, which means they are related to spiders and scorpions, and the class Crustacea, which includes shrimp and prawns and crabs. Spiny lobsters lack the large pincer claws of the eastern, or American lobster."

Sara sighed indulgently.

"Their most interesting method of defense, other than their spines, is an organ at the base of their spine that can produce sound when they are threatened. They have four pair of walking legs, and eat almost everything, including each other at times." Sara glanced at him, a little more interested, and made encouraging noises. Grissom droned on about their habitat and diet and mating habits and predators.

Sara suddenly envied Abby for being deaf and therefore able to ignore his monologue. Abby was slurping chowder and smacking her lips. Sara shook her head and wondered at these two, the eccentric man that had stolen her heart, and the small woman who had given birth to such a big man. Suddenly Abby caught her eye and winked.

Sara smothered a giggle, surprised. _She knows! She can tune him out!_

Grissom mock-glared at Sara when she suggested he wear a bib. He tackled the lobster with his usual intensity and dissected it, explaining its various anatomical features. Though it was a struggle, he didn't get any butter on his tie or shirt, and pointed that out to Sara smugly. She giggled when he dribbled some of his coffee on his shirt instead and he narrowed his eyes at her.

Abby retired to her room for a nap and Grissom practically shoved Sara into their bedroom.

"I've been wanting to do this all day." With one smooth tug he untied her dress and cupped her warm breasts in his hands, then kissed and sucked them reverently. Sara pretended to be shocked, but she'd seen that look in his eye. They fooled around and then Sara went to her suitcase.

"If you liked the dress, then you'll love this." She pulled out a tiny red bikini.

Grissom's eyes darkened with lust. He quickly stripped off his clothes and pulled her atop him on the bed.

"I'm sure I will, but right now I want to see you with nothing on at all," Gil said in his husky bedroom voice. Sara shivered. _God he's sexy._ They rolled around on the bed in an erotic tangle of arms and legs and mouths. Their arousal led them onward and upward and when he had brought her to orgasm with his fingers and she with her mouth they lay together in the afterglow.

Sara recovered first and poked him with her elbow. "C'mon. Let's go swimming. How far is the beach?"

"Not far. Walking distance." He pulled on his swimming trunks and watched her as she put on the bikini.

"Wow. God, Sara you have such a beautiful body. Long and lean, and those legs..."

"Thanks, Romeo. You're hot stuff, too." He chuffed.

Modestly, they both put on oversize T-shirts for their walk to the water (Sara borrowed one of his) and she tied a beach towel around her hips and Gil carried another and a bottle of suntan lotion. Gil left a note for his mother and they set out hand in hand.

When they reached the sand, Sara dropped the towel, kicked off her sandals, and stripped off her shirt.

"Race you!"

Grissom knew it was hopeless to keep up with her, so he jogged behind, happily watching her jump into the waves and dive under them, emerging with a gasp and a big smile. He waded and swam out to her and took her in his arms.

"God, it's been forever since I swam in the ocean."

"Me too," Grissom told her.

Grissom playfully dove under and grabbed her legs and they splashed each other and kissed underwater, then jumped over the big waves like kids. When she got saltwater up his nose they went back to their towels. Gil rubbed her down and slathered her sleek body with sunscreen. The bikini was more modest than it had looked, and it cradled her breasts and covered her sweet ass. He loved how he could nearly encircle her waist with his big hands and run his hands up and down that body he had admired for so long.

Feeling a rush of pride and possessiveness at the way the other men were ogling her, he exchanged silent looks with them saying, _Keep off_, and they looked back, saying with their eyes, _You're a lucky bastard_. Grissom smirked. He became aroused again by running his hands all over Sara and he had to turn on his stomach and ask her to spread the lotion on his back and legs. Her sensual massage made him hard as a rock and when he realized his hips were beginning to fuck the sand, he stirred. _I can't get enough of her._

Sara lay back and basked and Gil told her he was going back in the water.

He made his way a little awkwardly through the deep sand with his throbbing erection. Sara watched and grinned to herself, knowing well that particular straddling walk. She sat up on her elbows and watched the children and parents playing in the water and building sand castles.

A blonde teenager and a shorter, plainer girl approached her.

"What are you doing with that old man?" the blonde asked Sara bitchily. Her friend smirked.

"What are you doing asking personal questions of total strangers?"

"Just saying, I don't see what you see in him."

"I see a handsome, mature, kind, loving, brilliant man who makes me happy and is an incredible lover."

The blonde made a few more insulting remarks about his weight and gray hair and Sara had enough.

"Go away and play with your boy toys. You don't know what love is. Fuck off."

The girls stomped away.

Grissom returned, dripping wet, and looked concerned at her frown.

"What's wrong, honey?"

Sara repeated their conversation. He grinned and said the little bitch was as jealous as the men who had been admiring her the entire time, and thanked her for defending him so flatteringly. She cheered up, thinking over how she had told the girl off, and he smiled.

"Come here, handsome," Sara said. "God, you look sexy with that water dripping down your chest." Grissom laid down and they kissed deeply and sensuously, exploring each other's mouths with their tongues and sucking each other's lips into their mouths and biting them gently.

Gil stroked her face and told her how beautiful she was, her eyes, her face, her mouth.

"Damn, woman, you got me hard again. You turn me on something fierce. I'm going back in the cold water again."

"I'll go with you, lover. I need to cool off too, after all those hot kisses."

They ran back to the water, laughing.

The rest of the day was quiet. They showered off the salt water and sand and Gil got a book and read a little, swaying in a shady hammock, before he dozed off. Sara picked vegetables from the garden and helped Abby slice them up to make a big pot of soup. Abby showed Sara how to make fresh bread and Sara kneaded the dough and set it to rise. Abby made a pot of tea and they sat together and sipped it.

"Tell me about your childhood, dear." Sara gave her a condensed version and Abby listened quietly and attentively. _Just like Grissom did._ Sara told her she had been a model, and about her time in Italy, though she didn't mention the rape. She told Abby about her education in physics and her first real job at the San Francisco Crime Lab. She said she had found her place in life in criminalistics, and that Gil had influenced her decision and helped her ease into it, mentoring her.

After the bread was in the oven, and the soup seasoned and simmering nicely, Sara sat Abby down again.

"Tell me about the woman who broke his heart."

Abby sighed. "Her name was Melissa. They met when he was getting his Master's at the University of Chicago. She was young and smart and pretty, but she didn't hold a candle to you." Sara smiled.

"I didn't like her much, but I knew I couldn't tell my son that. She came from old money and was something of a snob. She bossed him around. And there was something about her I didn't trust. But he was infatuated and didn't see it. Love is blind _and_ stupid sometimes. It was serious and I think he was about to propose. But something happened, Gil never told me what exactly, but she suddenly married some preppie that her parents had picked out for her. He was a lawyer and joined her father's firm and he made him partner."

"I hate lawyers."

Abby chuckled. "I don't blame you. Anyway, Gil never had a girlfriend after that, that he told me of anyway. Once burned, twice shy, you know." Sara nodded in understanding.

"And then he met you and couldn't stop talking about you. By the way he described you, so enthused, I knew you were special. And you are," she patted Sara's arm, "you make him so happy."

"He makes me happy too."

"I can tell. There's a glow about you both, and the way you look at each other, well, it makes an old woman glad." They smiled.

Grissom wandered in, his tousled hair and sleepy eyes making him look adorable, and sniffed appreciatively. "Is that your famous vegetable soup, Mom?"

"It is. And you're just in time."

Summary of Chapter 12: Love and family.

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

The next morning, Monday, Abby said she had to go into work and open her gallery for business. Gil and Sara instantly said they would stop by about lunchtime and Sara said she was looking forward to seeing her art collection. Sara offered to cook dinner for them that night so she could just come home and relax.

Abby was thrilled. "Honey, you're the best girl a mother could ask for. If you just made Gilbert happy, I'd love you. If you were just the sweetest, most thoughtful, prettiest young lady I've met in years, I'd be thankful. If you were just the most intelligent, caring, and dedicated CSI on my son's team, I'd like you. But that you're all that and more, I adore you."

Sara and Grissom and Abby were close to tears by the end of her little speech, and Sara initiated a warm squishy hug. The older woman only came up to Sara's chest, so she wrapped her arms around Abby's head and neck and they got a little weepy together. Gil wrapped both of them in his large arms and let out his emotional side. His voice was shaky as he told both Sara and Abby how much he loved them and needed them and was grateful to God for having them in his life.

Sara told Grissom she loved him and she pulled away to speak to Abby. With her voice cracking, said, "I love you too, Abby." Only she knew how rarely she had said it to anyone, and meant it, in her entire life.

That started the real waterworks. Everyone's shirts had wet splotches by the time they were able to break from their group hug. They all chuckled in embarrassment, and Abby gave one parting shot, wiping her eyes.

"Gilbert Arthur Grissom if you don't marry this woman I will never forgive you."

Both Grissom's and Sara's jaws dropped open.

"Uh...we haven't talked about that yet, Mom."

"You've known each other ten years! You're madly in love with each other! You make each other happy! What's to talk about? What don't you know about each other? You work together, you eat together, you live together, you have sex..."

"MOTHER!"

"Hey! Don't_ mother_ me. I've been married twice. Listen. I told you for _years_ to go after Sara. I could tell by your eyes how you felt about her and how she made you feel. If you had listened..." she gave a deep exasperated sigh.

"Mom, I love you and I'm sorry I was too stupid to listen. I'll be apologizing to you, Sara, for the rest of my life..."

Sara started to interrupt.

"No dear, I just want to say that I want to talk to you about our future in private." Grissom turned back to his mother. "It _is _something I have thought about. Honest." He shot a glance at Sara, and was pleased at her delighted grin. "But it's been a big adjustment to both of us to spend so much time together..."

Sara chimed in. "Gil's right. It's one of the main reasons we came out to see you now, on such short notice. We were having a hard time. Just last week we had our first bad fight. Gil and I have really been trying to open up to each other and talk about anything and about trust... and everything...and that's hard, for anyone, especially people who are used to being alone, like us. We needed to get away."

Grissom agreed and added that though their love was strong, they both needed to learn how to live together and spend so much time with another person.

"It's also so difficult because we have to hide our relationship at work." Sara shot a glance at Gil and saw his understanding and encouraging look.

"It's hard to pretend I don't care about him when we're around our coworkers. It makes me feel...I don't know about you, honey, but it makes me feel like we're living a lie. Like we should be ashamed of our love," Sara told him.

"Exactly, honey. I've been trying to formulate that same feeling for months. I want to do something about it. It's like the last elephant in the room, that neither of us talk about."

"I hate lying to our friends."

"I do too."

"I want to be open about it. Why should we hide? This is a real love story."

"It is. And I don't want to rush it, knowing how rare, how important, how precious this is."

They were talking only to each other now and looking deeply into each other's eyes. Abby recognized it was her cue to leave, so she said farewell and closed the door carefully behind her.

Sara and Grissom returned to gazing at each other. There were entire conversations exchanged between their eyes. Neither moved. Neither said a word. Their eyes softened, then became concerned, then anxious, then loving, then comforting again.

Finally Gil reached out and tenderly stroked Sara's cheek. She leaned into his hand and looked at him, her eyes glittering.

"Oh Sara, I love you so much."

Overwhelmed with emotion, Sara threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with desperation and passion and gratitude. He responded in kind and their heads turned and hands stroked and squeezed and mouths dipped and tongues plundered each other's mouths. Tears ran down their cheeks and they tasted them. They couldn't kiss hard or deep or long enough to tell each other what they felt. The gods wept with joy. The sun shone brighter. Thousands of miles away, an elderly man with a heart full of regrets suddenly felt lighter and thought for the first time that his life had not been in vain. He could not name the source of the euphoria, but some part of him, maybe his DNA, or his tattered faith, or his primal memory, was saying that his only son was truly happy and in love. Neither father nor son ever knew.

Without breaking their kiss, Gil took a step in the direction of their bedroom and Sara stepped with him. Like a dance, he led her willingly.

They made love. In every sense of the word. It was the most tender, giving, rewarding, renewing, fulfilling and passionate lovemaking that either had ever experienced. Their bodies fused. Became one body, moving and feeling and loving, with four legs hopelessly tangled and mouths that could not seem to stop kissing. Hours passed before they even removed all their clothes. Gil's body told Sara _I love you I love you I love you_. Sara's heartbeat repeated the same message to Gil. It was perfect.

Knowing that a single word would break the spell, they settled in snugly and securely and drifted into dreamless sleep. The morning left without them.

In early afternoon, Sara stirred. She carefully turned in his arms and watched him sleep. For the first time since she was a child, Sara prayed. She didn't ask God for anything. She just thanked God for all that he'd given her. As she was saying a silent Amen, Gil's long eyelashes fluttered open. His blue eyes were tender.

"Hey."

"Hey." They kissed softly.

"That was..."

"I know."

"Magic."

"Yes. Magic. Like every time we make love, but deeper."

Sara agreed with a kiss. Reluctantly, she stirred. "We better go see your mom. She's probably wondering where we are." She got out of bed stiffly and groaned. Grissom felt a rush of masculine pride.

Sara held out her hand. "Shower?"

Grissom grinned and took her hand and they washed each other adoringly. When they were done, he drove them to his mother's art gallery, and Abby greeted them happily, noting but not commenting on their peaceful, sated looks. She told them to look around while she waited on a customer. They strolled from painting to sculpture to glassware to painting again, fingers linked. Grissom told her a little of what he knew and they commented on what they liked and what spoke to them.

Sara paused before a small watercolor. A lone dark figure on a beach, with a dark threatening sky. There was a red figure in the distance, possibly a woman. The composition led the eye from the dark figure to the red patch to a wrecked rowboat half buried in the sand in the lower right corner, then back again. The triangle was repeated in the other half of the painting, along the waterline and up to a dramatic cloud and back.

Sara studied it carefully. "I like this. I'm going to buy it."

"I'll buy it for you..."

"No. I want to. You spend plenty of money on me. I want this." Sara brought it to the counter and paid, watching Abby bundle it carefully in bubble wrap and brown paper and string.

"Good choice, dear. I like that one too." Sara smiled her brilliant smile at her and it had its usual cheering effect. You couldn't help but smile back when you saw it.

Sara asked what time Abby would be coming home, and said she would have dinner started by then. The happy couple strolled out and Abby followed them with her eyes until they turned a corner.

Summary of Chapter 13: Venice Beach

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Sara and Grissom strolled through the busy streets of Venice Beach.

"Is there a farmer's market around?" she asked Grissom.

"I think so. Let me ask..." and he approached a young woman with a baby tied snugly against her chest. Grissom asked for directions in his unconsciously charming way and she told him, looking dazzled at his handsome face and gentlemanly ways. Sara gave her a look of understanding and she raised her eyebrows back at Sara, mouthing, _Wow._

Sara giggled. Grissom looked at her inquiringly as they walked on.

"You really don't see it, do you?" Sara asked him.

"See what?" he answered, puzzled.

"How handsome you are. How sexy. How you sweep women off their feet with just a look and a few words."

"I do, huh? No kidding."

"No kidding. You did that to me, the first time we met, you know. And you've only gotten more handsome since then. I can admire you and just look at you and think how lucky I am..."

"Not as lucky as me, my dear." They paused for a kiss and a squeeze.

"I could get used to this," Sara told him in his arms.

"Used to what?"

"Kissing you whenever I want. Hugging you and holding your hand in public."

He looked troubled. "Me too. There must be something we can do. We both love and excel in our jobs. We should not be kept apart or made to hide it." Sara watched his face. "Let me...I'll think of something."

"I'm sure you will. I trust you."

"I trust you too, Sara," he smiled with his eyes. "With all my heart."

They bought lots of fresh produce and Grissom carried the bags and they drove back to the house. Sara started dinner and Gil helped, washing the vegetables and fruit and cutting them up and working in easy companionship. When the fruit salad was made and the garlic bread prepared and the vegetable lasagna with spinach and artichoke hearts was in the oven, Sara wiped the sweat from her brow and washed her hands. Gil led her to the couch and they sat together. Sara laid her head in his lap and looked up at him. He gently stroked her cheek and face and hair.

Lost in their quiet reverie, neither noticed when the key turned in the lock and Abby came in. She paused and admired them, sighing to herself and remembering the men who had loved her, so long ago.

Grissom glanced up. "Hi, Mom! How was your day?"

"Not as good as yours, I'm sure." They grinned sheepishly at her.

They had their dinner with a bottle of wine and then fresh coffee and the rest of the cheesecake for dessert. Grissom asked if they would like to take a walk down Venice Beach and Sara agreed and Abby excused herself, saying she was tired.

"We'll be leaving tomorrow, Mom. I think we'd both like to do some sightseeing before we get back to Vegas and work." Grissom glanced at Sara and liked her agreeable expression.

"That's a good idea, son. You both need to have fun and explore whenever you get a chance." Grissom gave her a hug.

"I do hope you will come back soon and visit."

"We'd love to. Come visit us too," Grissom told her.

"I will. This is my busy season, with all the tourists in town, but maybe for the holidays."

"That would be great," Sara answered warmly.

Abby retired to her room and Sara and Grissom showered and dressed for their stroll. The couple walked along the boardwalk, past the skate park, the street performers, the buskers, and watched an amazing display of a man juggling chainsaws. They spotted Harry Perry, the famed turbaned roller-skating guitar player, who was as much a fixture of the town as the palm trees and arty boutiques.

Sara saw Grissom eyeing at the pumped up men on Muscle Beach and reassured him.

"They're freaks. They look like comic book characters," she told him.

"Wouldn't you like it if I..."

"_No_, dear. Don't even ask. I love you just the way you are."

"Okay." Gil paused. "Wow, I really am insecure."

Sara giggled. "Now, if you are eyeing those pretty surfer girls..."

"Who, me?"

"Yes, you." She laughed.

"I am a man, you know."

"I noticed."

Grissom spun her in his arms. "Where have you been all my life?"

"Right here. Under your nose." He chuckled ruefully.

They browsed through the little shops that sold everything from engravings to tie-dyed shirts to fake Chinese vases. Gil watched Sara carefully as she fingered the various jewelry.

"You want to buy me something, don't you?" she asked him, smirking.

"I do. You're reading my mind again."

Sara giggled. "Okay. I'll let my honey pie buy me jewelry. Let me think. I don't need diamonds or ropes of pearls..." He chuckled. "Or wampum belts...Oh, we should get some souvenirs for the kids. They miss us."

"Who?" Grissom teased.

"The team. Warrick Brown, Catherine Willows, Greg Sanders...ring any bells?"

"I forgot all about them."

"No you didn't, silly."

"Yes I did, for–what's it been? Five days?"

"Yeah. Five days without Ecklie, or decomps, or even Greg...I wonder what color his hair is now."

"Purple? Orange? Let's get him a cheesy shirt." They picked one out, and some goofy sunglasses for Catherine, a T-shirt for Nick that said "Cowboy Up" and a set of lurid postcards for Warrick, Sara giggling at their choices.

Finally she held up a thin leather necklace that threaded through an abalone shell.

"This is it."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Grissom paid and knotted it around her neck.

"Can I buy you something?" Sara asked him.

"Nope. I have everything. I have you."

"Aww. You're so sweet. Hey, I'll buy you ice cream."

"Deal."

They got their soft swirly ice cream cones and sat on a bench, watching the sun go down over the Pacific Ocean.

Summary of Chapter 14: Goodbye and good luck.

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

The Grissom family home was bustling the next morning. Sara and Grissom were packing, then getting out their razors and shampoo again for a shower, and gathering their scattered belongings. Grissom picked out some books to take back to Vegas. Abby was torn between making breakfast, getting ready for work, and trying not to break down in tears to see her son and his girlfriend leave. They were all a little emotional, though Grissom did the best job of looking stoic.

"Do you need anything else to take with you, dear?"

"No, I don't think so," Grissom replied. "We even managed to pick up some souvenirs for the children yesterday."

"Children?" Abby asked, puzzled.

Sara giggled. "He means our team. Nick is like his son."

"As are Warrick and Greg," Grissom added, liking that the topic had lifted some of the sadness around the breakfast table.

"And Catherine is everyone's mom, whether they like it or not," Sara added, which made them all chuckle.

"Brass is like a dad to me," Sara said fondly. "Greg is like my annoying little brother, though he can be sweet too, and Warrick and Nick are the brothers I would have chosen."

Sara paused, and went on. "Not that_ I _think of you as my father, Gil."

"Of course not," Grissom said, thinking back to the time when he'd wondered that very thing, before he realized what Sara's true feelings were for him.

"You're my hu..." she started to say, then stopped abruptly, realizing she was about to say _husband. _"My honey," she finished quickly, blushing. Abby's eyes brightened and Grissom's grew more serious. Both knew what she was about to say.

"You're nothing like my father." Sara said seriously. "Nothing at all." They all paused thoughtfully.

When the breakfast dishes were cleared away, Abby asked if Sara would like some lemons to take with her. Sara brightened.

"That's a great idea! Thanks! We can put a big bowl of them in the breakroom, so the guys can shower the stink off them, and take a bunch home too. Fresh lemonade, fish with lemon, lemon juice...the Italians put a squeeze and a section in their Cokes. Lemon is great with almost anything."

"With chicken, too," Grissom said mildly.

Sara looked wistful for just a moment. "Yeah...lemon chicken. But that was before I started thinking about those poor birds, clucking away and laying eggs one minute, and the next, strung up by their necks, beheaded, gutted, and laid out on someone's dining room table."

Abby gave her some paper grocery bags. "Take as many as you like, dear. I can never use them all, and they just go to waste. Take all the fresh herbs and vegetables you want too."

Sara went out into the garden, saying mostly to herself, "Yeah, and a bowl of lemons always looks so nice. Fresh and cheery...good for you, too." She fetched the triangular ladder, leaned it up against the lemon tree, and gathered handfuls.

Abby grabbed Grissom by the arm and dragged him into her bedroom.

"Here," she said, rummaging through her jewelry box, "this was your grandmother's engagement ring." She opened a little blue velvet box and showed it to her son.

"One and a half carats, platinum band, princess setting."

"It's beautiful, Mom, really. But..."

"But what?" Abby said, fixing him with a gimlet glare.

"But, if and when, Sara agrees to marry me..." Abby snorted with contempt.

"Like I said," Grissom glared back, "if and when I ask for her hand in marriage, I'd rather it not be with my grandmother's ring. I'm not marrying my grandmother. I'm marrying Sara, if that's what we agree to do," he added quickly. "She's not...a traditionalist. In fact we had an odd sort of conversation about weddings during a case..." Grissom decided not to tell her about the groom's dead mother being dragged behind the bridal couple's car.

"Oh. I suppose that makes sense. I doubt she has a high opinion of marriage, given her childhood."

"She told you about that?" Grissom asked with surprise.

"She did. And I admire her all the more."

"I do too." They smiled at each other, thinking about Sara.

Abby started poking through her box again.."All right, not the ring then. How about you pick out something else she would like?"

"That's a great idea, Mom. I have trouble finding things to buy her." Grissom started looking through the box. "She always says she doesn't need anything, and yesterday, on the boardwalk, I nearly had to twist her arm to let me buy her a simple leather necklace with a shell."

"That one she was wearing this morning? That looked very nice on her."

"Thank you. Sara has good taste."

"She does."

Grissom picked up and then decided against some various clunky old-fashioned pieces. Abby folded her hands, sat on the bed, and watched him fondly.

"She doesn't wear bracelets–interferes with the job. Or earrings for that matter," he mumbled. "Can't remember if she even has pierced ears. A brooch maybe, for her court suit." He found a lovely little cameo, and a little gold horse with a rider.

"Could I have these?"

"Of course, dear. Take whatever you like, with my blessings." Grissom smiled at her.

"Necklaces. She likes those. They set off that lovely long neck," he mused. Abby grinned to herself.

"Ah. This is lovely." He held up a delicate silver necklace, with small emeralds, and star-like pendent encircling a decent-sized diamond.

"She'd love that, Gilbert. Give it to her when you're getting all dressed up for a night out."

"Yeah. A date. We haven't had many of those." Abby looked concerned.

"It's just–if we're seen out, it could be bad news for her career. And mine. I could be accused of favoritism, and the lawyers would have a field day..." he sighed.

"That must be so difficult, for both of you."

"It is. I remind myself there are other jobs, other labs, other careers...I'm just attached to our lab, she is too, and our team is so tightknit." Abby nodded sympathetically.

"Here. Put those in this." She gave him a little soft bag and drew it closed. "Keep it safe."

"I will, Mom. Maybe you will be there at Christmas, to see her open it."

"I'd like that. Take something else, for the meantime."

"Okay." Grissom found a chain necklace of linked daisies with a silver bee.

"Very nice," Abby told him.

"Very appropriate," Grissom mumbled. _For my honeybee._

"What about you, dear? Would you like some of your father's ties? Handkerchiefs?"

Grissom was about to refuse, then saw the tears glittering in his mother's eyes. "Good idea, Mom. For court, and for nights out." Abby smiled and the tears were unshed.

Sara called from the sliding glass door. "Honey? Can you carry these bags to the car?"

"Be right there!" They gathered the jewelry, tucked it into the bag, and Grissom secured it in his shirt pocket and buttoned it closed.

"Wow, Sara. You weren't kidding." There were two full grocery bags of lemons, and one of herbs and another of cucumbers, tomatoes, squash, and other vegetables.

"Hey, before I do that, can you help me pick out some ties?"

"Love too." Sara grinned at him. She carefully inspected the selection, holding some up on him to see how the colors looked. Conservative, professional, warm colors, solid dark colors, not too gaudy...they ended up with a dozen or so. And a few nice handkerchiefs, some of them embroidered.

Grissom carried the bags to the Mercedes, and then their luggage. They stood around in the driveway, knowing Abby hated to see them go.

"It's been lovely, Abby, really. Thank you." Sara gave her a hug and Abby pulled her down for a smooch on the cheek.

"Take care of yourselves. And each other."

"We will, Mom. Love you." Grissom kissed her goodbye.

"Love you too, son. And you, Sara. Have a safe trip."

"I'll call you when we get home."

"You do that."

Grissom got in and they drove away. Abby stood in the doorway until they were gone, then went inside and had a good cry. When she was done, she washed her face, reapplied her makeup, and went to work.

Summary of Chapter 15: The slow way home.

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Grissom drove back through the streets of his old neighborhood.

"That was great. Really great." Sara commented.

"It was," Grissom agreed, glancing at her fondly. "I'm proud of you, Sara."

"Thanks," she replied. "I'm kind of proud of me too." They smiled a little.

"From everything you told me, I knew she'd be nice. I just didn't expect..."

"To be welcomed into the Grissom family?"

Sara smiled. "Yeah. I'm not used to that. Having a...mom." Grissom nodded and glanced at her.

"Hey, Gris? Um, would your feelings for me have changed, if your mother didn't like me?" Sara asked uncertainly.

Grissom looked concerned..

"I'd like to say _No_, but honestly...I couldn't say. I did know she would love you. I know she didn't like..."

"Melissa?" Sara filled in.

Grissom was surprised. "Yeah! Melissa...how did you?"

"Abby told me, well, some of the story," Sara said.

"Melissa. Yeah. The one who...damaged me, as I think you once said."

Sara smiled encouragingly and squeezed his hand. "Tell me about her?"

"She...she was nothing like you, that's for sure." He gathered his thoughts. "I was... infatuated with Melissa. I thought I was in love, but I didn't know what love was. I was flattered by the attention, and it was good not to be so lonely. She made me feel proud to be her date, and that sort of thing. It was fine for us both for a while. She had a coolness about her, an elegance, and she was blonde and rich and liked the good life. It was a whole new world for me, society and dinner parties and mansions. She would never have slept outdoors in a pine forest!"

They both laughed.

"Maybe it was because we were such opposites. I don't know. I know opposites attract, but I don't think that it always makes for a lasting relationship. She hated getting dirty, hated bugs...wasn't interested in science or almost anything I was...we had a physical attraction, a chemistry, but not much else."

Sara narrowed her eyes. "What was she studying?"

Grissom snorted with contempt. "To get her MRS degree. To be Mrs. Grissom or Mrs. Somebody. French literature, but that was only a means to an end. She was dead set on getting married. And I felt obligated to do the traditional thing."

"And then?" Sara asked kindly.

"And then, well, she kind of...brought me down, bit by bit. Ridiculed me. Said she hated when I came home exhausted and smelling of dead bodies. Told me my interest in bugs was silly..." Sara snorted contemptuously. "I know. I don't know why I took it. She bitched about the long hours I worked, studying to be a CSI and working as a coroner and finishing my thesis. Told me I was closed off and uncommunicative..."

"Fancy that," Sara joked. They grinned at each other.

"Hey, if she could see you now," Sara told him encouragingly, "how open you are."

"Yes! I'd like to see that. You really have changed me, Sara, for the better. Brought me out of the shell I was living in." Grissom squeezed her hand and they smiled with love.

"You've taught me so much," he told her softly. Sara kissed him on the cheek and whispered, "So have you." Grissom crinkled his eyes at her, then looked back at the road.

"My mom visited me, and we all went out to dinner. Melissa chose the fanciest place in town, and of course I was expected to pay. It was a strain on my finances, to say the least, to keep up with her. She was showing off, calling the maitre d' by name, ordering off the menu and getting bottles of champagne. I know my mother was uncomfortable. Melissa ignored her, treated her like she was stupid because she was deaf.".

"That was the beginning of the end. She got more distant, and wouldn't return my phone calls. I tried to pursue her. That made it more of a challenge and I was smitten. Lost. Not in my right mind."

Grissom sighed with resignation. Sara listened closely, letting him speak.

"I even picked out a ring...it was like I was on this fixed path and didn't know how to get off it. She went away for a month and when I was expecting her back I got a Dear John letter and then a wedding announcement." Sara squeezed his hand and held it tight.

"So, I blamed myself. Told myself if I wasn't good enough for her, then I wasn't good enough for anyone. I threw myself into my books and my work and became a hermit. The end. You know the rest."

"Screw her. What a bitch. You both would have been miserable." Sara said firmly.

"Yeah, we would have. Round pegs in square holes. I can't see Melissa living in Las Vegas and being the wife of a graveyard CSI supervisor!"

"And I can't see you living in some mansion in Illinois, trailing around after her in a tuxedo and making small talk at cocktail parties. Though you _are _adorable in a tuxedo."

Grissom grinned.

"You clean up nice too, babe," he told her. Sara giggled.

"Hey. When we had that case at the deaf college, I was rude, and a jerk," Sara said. "I know that must have offended you. I'm sorry."

"Yes. Since we're being so honest, I was offended, at the time. But I forgave you a long time ago. God knows I have lots more to make up for, with you."

"You're doing great, honey. Keep up the good work!" They grinned at each other.

"So..." Grissom said suggestively, and raised an eyebrow.

"So?" Sara asked, intrigued at his tone of voice.

"I was thinking. We need to get back on a night schedule. Why don't we drive for a bit, then hole up in some motel, and finish the drive tonight?"

"And make love?" Sara asked lightly.

"Definitely."

"Have sex? Have relations? Screw?"

Grissom made a face. "We don't _screw_, honey."

"Point taken. We do fuck sometimes, though."

Grissom snorted. "Indeed we do," he deadpanned.

Sara giggled and went on, "Make the beast with two backs. Copulate. Know each other in the biblical sense. Knock boots. Bonk. Get laid." She smirked at him.

Grissom snickered. "What are you, a pornographic thesaurus?"

"Nope." She winked and pursed her lips. "Let's just say...I'm...inspired."

"And I am bewitched and bothered and bemused." Grissom retorted. "Oh look, a motel."

He made a sudden turn and screeched to a halt.

Sara laughed.

Summary of Chapter 16: R&R.

**A/N**: Hmm, smut. I couldn't resist. It fit here, honest. If you are under 18, go away. Read something else!

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Grissom started to dash out of the car to the motel office. Sara restrained him with a hand on his arm.

"Grissom! We haven't even gone fifty miles!"

"Ah, but fifty miles with a beauty like you by my side? A siren? A temptress? Making suggestive comments...you are too hard to resist. You make me feel like a stallion. A satyr! Besides, we haven't been _intimate_ for..." he calculated quickly, looking at his watch. "Twenty-seven hours. Good Lord."

Sara giggled happily. "You're right. That you can be romantic and literate and horny all at once?" He snickered. "You're pretty damn irresistible."

He kissed her quickly. "Lock up. I'm checking in." He gave her the keys and hurried away.

Sara waited for him in the parking lot. Within minutes he reappeared with a room key and shoved her playfully to their room.

As soon as the door closed behind them, he hastily began divesting her of her clothes. Sara breathlessly worked his off too. Their clothes in a pile by the door, Grissom leapt into bed and she climbed in after him. He attacked her body with his mouth and she responded with delight. Beginning his usual passionate exploration of her body, Sara shifted.

"Skip the foreplay honey." she said hoarsely. "Make love...later."

He growled. Grissom thrust inside her quickly in one smooth stroke and they paused for just a moment, and savored the sensation with throaty groans.

"Oh God honey, so wet. So wet and hot and ready for me."

Then, he was moving in her, and her body responded to his in a frantic dance. Sweat beaded on their foreheads and he dipped his face to suck on a pink nipple. Sara moaned loudly.

Her head was thrashing around on the pillow, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her hips thrusting upwards to meet his.

"Harder, baby. I'm so _close_."

Grissom eagerly complied, pounding into her, faster and harder, muscles straining. He encircled his erection between two fingers, feeling it slip wetly between them and nearly climaxing just at that sensation. He bent his thumb forward and stroked and flicked her clitoris. Sara came explosively and he slowed as she rode it out, then, as she grabbed his ass and pulled him inside her with every thrust, he spurted his come deep within her with grunting moans that throbbed in their bellies.

He briefly flattened her sweaty body with his, then rolled them both over to their sides. They panted hot breaths into each other's faces. Sara brought his wet fingers to her mouth and sucked them. Grissom's eyes darkened and his mouth sought out her neck, her breasts, her throat, and her sensitive earlobes. Sara became aroused again and rolled him over on his back and moved over him with her tongue and hands and mouth.

He was hard again so quickly. Sara lowered herself on him and rocked with long slow strokes. In and out, up and down, slowly, savoring each other's warmth and desire. Sara arched back and he caressed her breasts and cupped them in his hands, touching her hard nipples with his thumbs.

She bent forward and licked and sucked his neck. Grissom stroked her soft ass and pulled it to him as close as he could. She rubbed her clitoris on his pubic bone at every stroke and came with a rush that coated their thighs.

As an experienced and mature lover, Grissom was able to last a good long time. Sara let her breasts graze along his chest as she nibbled his collarbone and jaw and bit his shoulders hard enough to leave round bruises but not break the skin. Grissom moaned at the combination of pain and pleasure and dragged his fingernails down her back and squeezed her butt cheeks. She arched over him, letting her hips move faster, and held his handsome face in her hands.

"Come for me. Gil! Let me...watch you... come." She held his eyes in hers and felt him thrust up forcefully. She slammed down on him and twisted her hips a little. Every muscle in his body tightened.

"Oh God Sara! So good...Mmm...LOVE you...Yes!" He let go. Sara watched his face and eyes and climaxed with him. She folded her body and lay on him, listening to his heartbeat and breathing gradually slow.

"You are...magnificent," Sara said into his neck, completely relaxed.

"So are you." Grissom said, huskily, as he stroked her hair and brushed the strands away from her beautiful face and kissed her. Their mouths moved over each other's languidly.

They broke apart and looked at each other's bright eyes.

"I don't feel like sleeping yet. You?" she asked him.

"Yeah. Let's hit the road. Do something...fun this afternoon."

"More fun than this?" she teased.

"Jesus, woman. You're going to wear me down to a nub." Sara giggled and he patted her hip and climbed off the bed. They took showers and redressed in their clothes.

"What shall we do? Where would you like to go?" Grissom asked when they were settled back in the car, Sara behind the wheel.

"How about we...ride some rollercoasters?" Sara suggested, knowing it would please him.

Grissom's face lit up. He grinned a boyish, face-splitting grin, the rarest of his facial expressions. Sara was delighted at his reaction. _Damn he's cute. Like an eager, adorable boy in a man's body._

"You mean it? Really?" Sara grinned happily back at him and nodded.

"Are there any coasters nearby?" she asked.

"There must be." She watched as he delved into his encyclopedic mind, eyes flickering back and forth as if he was literally reading pages.

"Of course! Six Flags Magic Mountain! Valencia, thirty minutes south of L.A. Haven't been there in years."

"Let's go! You navigate, okay?"

"Aye aye, Captain," he said. Grissom unfolded a map and scanned it, tracing the route with a thick finger, mumbling and smiling to himself in anticipation.

Sara watched him out of the corner of her eye. _God I love this man._

Summary of Chapter 17: Riding the rails.

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

"So, tell me about this place." Sara said, as they waited in line at the entrance.

"Sixteen world class rollercoasters. Twenty or so good ones too. And some water rides as well," Grissom responded. "'Goliath' is one of the highest anywhere, 26 stories high, with a top speed of 85 miles per hour. 'Viper' has seven inversions. 'Ninja' is a traditional steel coaster. 'X2' is amazing. You're suspended from a single rail with your legs dangling, and it's a four-dimensional experience."

"_Four_ dimensions?" Sara asked, incredulous.

"Suspend your disbelief for the time being, Harvard." Sara grinned at him.

"So–which should we try first?" she asked.

"Are you up for the big ones? Have you ridden them before?"

"A few times. I like the rush."

"Me too, honey. Me too." He thought for a bit. "Let's–work our way up. Ninja first and then maybe some of the giant ones, okay?"

"Okay! You're the boss."

"I'm not your boss here. We're equals," Grissom said seriously.

"Okay. My...guide, then." He smiled at her.

They waited in line for the Ninja rollercoaster, arms around each other. Sara looked up and around, watching the cars ascend and fall, and listening to the passengers scream in terror and joy. Grissom was bouncing on his toes.

"Hey, Gris? They're not going to fly off the rails, are they?" Sara asked, remembering the case of the rollercoaster car that did just that, with all the passengers killed on impact.

"No loose screws here, I promise," he told her. When they got to the top of the stairs, Grissom made a big show of inspecting the rails and wheels and interviewing the park employee, who gaped at him. Sara giggled and grabbed his arm and pushed him into a seat.

They pulled their safety harnesses down and looked at each other. Grissom's eyes were dancing.

"Scared?"

"Nah," she answered. "I will hold your hand though, big boy." He chuckled and offered his hand and she gripped it. The car moved forward with a jolt. Click, click, click, it climbed the first big hill and then fell forward. Sara was screaming and yelling the whole way around. Grissom was grinning, open-mouthed, letting his head and body sway with the motion. It came back to the platform and jerked to a halt.

"Hoo! That was fun!" Sara yelled.

"Wasn't it? Viper next?"

"Sure," Sara said, his enthusiasm contagious.

This one spun them head over heels, seven times, as promised. Sara was a little dizzy and staggered as she climbed out. Grissom grabbed her around the waist.

"You okay, honey?"

"Fine. Let's try our luck at some of the booths. At least until my head stops spinning."

"Good thinking."

Grissom tugged her to a sharpshooter range and plunked down money for both of them.

"Ready?" he smirked.

"Whenever you are. Loser buys the cotton candy."

"You're on."

Grissom raised the BB gun to his shoulder and took aim. Plink! Plink! Plink! The targets fell in turn. Nineteen out of twenty.

"Your turn, hot stuff."

Sara smirked back. "Little ducks don't stand a chance." She shot accurately but missed the last two when Grissom blew a hot breath in her ear.

"Hey, no fair," she said, tickling him. He chuckled.

"You're right. I'm buying the cotton candy."

The pimply-faced teenager looked at them, awed.

"You guys cops or something?"

"We're scientists, actually."

The kid shook his head. "Whatever. Best shots today. Pick your prizes from these."

Grissom chose a big T-shirt that said, _Rollercoasters Rock!_. Sara picked a little stuffed monkey with Velcro on its hands and looped it around her neck.

"Hey! You've got a monkey on your back!" he teased.

"Yeah," she grinned. "I'll name him Gilbert." He pushed her with his shoulder playfully.

They strolled around, ate their cotton candy, then washed their sticky hands and faces in the restrooms.

"Look!" Sara said, pointing to a photo booth. "Let's get our pictures taken."

"Sure." They crowded into the little booth, smooching and mugging for the camera. Sara asked to take another strip so they could split them up. She waited for the light to start flashing and then grabbed Grissom, turning his face to hers, and kissed him passionately. Grissom was kissing her back, one hand behind her head, for the next two. The next were of the couple gazing into each other's eyes. He tipped her chin up and gave her a little kiss and the camera stopped clicking.

Sara looked the photos over and Grissom examined them too, looking over her shoulder.

"Wow," he said admiringly. "We are a handsome couple."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Hot stuff, too." He snickered. Gil tucked them into his wallet and said they would cut them up later. Grissom smiled to himself at the thought of carrying around pictures of the two of them. _Nice._

They rode two more good-sized coasters and then stood in line for the Goliath. Grissom stood behind Sara and wrapped her tightly in his arms, kissing her neck. Whenever she took a step forward, he stepped too, keeping his legs touching hers.

An obnoxious voice behind them yelled, "Get a room!"

Grissom turned his head around and blew a raspberry in that direction. Sara chuckled. "We already did," she whispered. Grissom smirked at her and they kissed.

"Hey grandpa! Is she your daughter or what? Gross!" the same voice yelled.

"Excuse me, honeybee. Stay here." Grissom turned around and strode back to the two teenage boys. He loomed over them with his natural authority and they eyed his muscular arms and athletic build nervously.

"Something you want to say, son?"

"Uh," one of the boys said.

"No...sir," said the other one, quailing at his glare.

"Good." Gil moved back up the line, politely squeezing by, and a young man stuck out his hand.

"Good for you. Teach those little shits a lesson." Grissom smiled at him and shook his hand.

Sara threw her hands around his neck, batted her eyes, and cried out dramatically, "My hero!"

Gil chuckled. "Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once." Julius Caesar."

"The bard was a wise man."

"He was."

At last they reached the top of the high stairs and got in.

"Damn. It's a long way down," Sara said nervously.

"Yes, but this is the fun way down." He put his arm around her and she gripped the handrail with both white-knuckled fists. They shot forward and plunged and swooped at an incredible speed. Sara held her mouth open in a silent 'o' for nearly the entire ride. Her legs were unsteady when they got out. Gil took her hand and looked into her face with concern.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded. "I think that's enough for me."

Grissom agreed and they made their way toward the exit, swinging their joined hands.

"You know what?" he said, still feeling the adrenaline rush. "I haven't been bored this entire week."

Sara broke their grip, put her hands on her hips, and glared at him. She was feeling a little queasy and flushed, so she answered more harshly than she meant to.

"Oh really? Were you _expecting_ to be bored?"

_Shit._ "No, dear, I meant..."

"Is my company usually not stimulating enough for you?"

"No, not at all..."

"I know you are a misanthrope, and none can match your great mind..."

"Sara!"

"So it is a strain to subject to yourself to inferior..."

"SARA!" Grissom yelled.

"WHAT!" she yelled back, just as loudly.

"What I _meant_ was, your company is...fantastic. I love spending time with you. We can have fun, we can be serious...I can talk to you for hours and always be amazed at your clever mind. I can sit quietly beside you and gaze at your beauty, and it rivals the greatest works of art," he told her earnestly.

Sara calmed a little.

"You're sexy and funny and sweet and charming and intelligent..."

"Okay, okay. Flatterer." She hugged him.

"Why you put up with me...my obliviousness, my overweening pride and patronizing attitude, my insensitivity.." Grissom told her.

"You put up with me too. With all my baggage and insecurities and crap."

"Guess we're a match made in heaven, then." They chuckled.

**Summary** of Chapter 18: Love by the dashboard lights.

**Disclaimer:** I am borrowing Dido's lovely lyrics. Hope she doesn't mind.

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

Grissom and Sara stopped and had a nice dinner. It was twilight when they got back on the road, Sara driving. Grissom laid his head against the window and dozed. He awoke when they hit a bump and peeked over at Sara.

Sara was singing along softly to a CD of Dido.

_Oh I am what I am_

_I'll do what I want_

_But I can't hide_

_I won't go_

_I won't sleep_

_I can't breathe_

_Until you're resting here with me_

The light from the dashboard controls made her delicate features just visible. Grissom was reminded of the many times he had watched her working in the lab in near darkness, her face lit by soft blue or yellow light, how he had admired her beauty in secret for so many years. _Why did I wait so long? _he asked himself, not for the first time. He also remembered listening to her quietly singing to herself as she labored over evidence, something he always did with silent pleasure.

He listened, closing his eyes.

_It's all right to make mistakes_

_You're only human_

_Inside everybody's hiding something_

_Take time to catch your breathe and choose your moment_

_Don't slide_

_Even at a time like this when the morning seems so far_

_Think that pain belongs to you but it's happened to us all_

Grissom thought about the lyrics and how apt they were at this moment in their lives.

_Touch my skin, and tell me what you're thinking_

_Take my hand and show me where we're going_

_Lie down next to me, look into my eyes and tell me, oh tell me what you're seeing_

_So sit on top of the world and tell me how you're feeling_

Grissom reached over and turned down the volume.

Sara reacted. "Sorry! Did I wake you?"

"No, honey. I just wanted to hear your voice, more than hers."

"You...did?"

"Yeah. I love to hear you sing."

"Thanks," Sara said, blushing a little.

"I do. Sing some more?"

"Uh, okay. I'll keep the CD on though. It helps me remember the words." Grissom nodded and watched her and listened.

_I want to thank you for giving me the best day of my life_

_Oh just to be with you is having the best day of my life_

_Push the door, I'm home at last and I'm soaking through and through_

_Then you handed me a towel and all I see is you_

_And even if my house falls down now, I wouldn't have a clue_

_Because you're near me and_

_I want to thank you for giving me the best day of my life_

_Oh just to be with you is having the best day of my life_

Her voice grew stronger as she went on, gaining confidence, and by the time the CD ended they were grinning at each other.

"Thank you, Sara. That was a treat."

"You're welcome."

Sara pulled into a gas station and Grissom hopped out and filled the tank. By unspoken agreement, Gris got behind the wheel. They had crossed the border of Nevada and only had a few hours more on the road.

Sara leaned over and kissed him.

"What was that for?"

"For giving me the best day of my life."

"Which one?" Grissom asked, smiling shyly.

"Every single one of them, since that Sunday." They smiled at each other and kissed a few more times. Grissom started the engine, and Sara watched him drive, admiring his handsome face in the dashboard lights, just as he had.

She sighed with contentment and laid her head in his lap. She relished the feeling of the muscles of his leg contract and relax as he accelerated and braked. Grissom stroked her hair.

_God I love this woman._

**Summary** of Chapter 19: Home.

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

_Home is the sailor, home from the sea_

_And the hunter home from the hill._

_Robert Louis Stevensen_

It was late when Grissom and Sara drove up to his townhouse. They brought their luggage inside without having to say anything. Sara unpacked her bags and took out her dirty laundry. Grissom surreptitiously removed and hid the little velvet bag of jewelry, then dumped his dirty clothes in the hamper and started a load, leaving the dress clothes by the door to take to the dry cleaner.

Grissom went through the mail, tossed the junk, piled the bills neatly, and set aside anything Sara should look at. He listened to all of his phone messages and deleted most of them and jotted down notes from the others. Gris took a shower, dressed in soft baggy sweatpants and an old shirt and went to his office and booted up his computer.

Sara took a hot bath, put on some comfortable clothes, laid out the souvenirs for the team on the counter to bring to the lab, and put away the vegetables. She hung the herbs in the kitchen, taking deep breaths and enjoying their various scents. She went to her little desk in the corner, powered up her laptop and checked her email.

When she was done, Sara put the clothes in the dryer and started a simple dinner, flipping through the new journals. Grissom smelled the food cooking, padded out to the kitchen, and kissed her on the cheek. They sat and ate in comfortable silence, savoring the memories of the vacation they had shared in their minds and the comfort of being home again.

Casually, Sara said, "I should stop by my apartment tomorrow before work."

Gil looked at her for a long minute. "Why don't you move in with me?" Grissom asked, trying to sound relaxed, though his heart was pounding and his mouth was dry.

Sara gasped and looked at him in wide-eyed surprise.

Grissom studied her expression and tried to reassure her with his eyes. "This past week, this wonderful vacation, has taught me how much I enjoy being with you, every moment, every day. Not to mention our years of working together..." Sara smiled a little. "Even if we get cross with one another...it's okay. Now I know I can learn from my mistakes and we can move past it together. You mean so much to me, Sara."

Sara gave him an uncertain smile, started to say something, then paused. Grissom waited.

"I...You mean so much to me too, Gil. I'm a little surprised right now."

"I understand." They both paused.

"I'd like it. Very much. Living with you," Grissom added.

"Are you sure, Gil? Giving up your privacy, your freedom, your solitude? This is..."

"A big step. I know. Especially for a stuffy old bachelor like me." They chuckled.

"I don't want to live alone anymore, Sara. I want to share my life with you," Grissom said, taking her hand.

"I do too," Sara answered, giving his hand a squeeze.

"I know I have my...quirks, and annoying habits," Grissom admitted. "Being together so much, well, we might get on each other's nerves...just tell me when I'm being an ass, okay?"

Sara chuckled. "Hey, I get it. I can be a pain too. I have a temper, and you tend to clam up when you are upset. That's who we are. You know I hate confrontation and fights, and sometimes we let those feelings fester. As long as we communicate like we have been, we'll be okay."

"I hate fighting too. I do believe we can disagree without being hurtful. And never any violence, ever."

Sara said, "Yes. I agree. You don't have to feel like you need to bare your soul every time we're alone, either. We don't have to agree on everything or try to be perfect. We don't have to spend every minute of every day together, talking. I like just hanging out, reading or watching TV or working on cases we bring home–just knowing you are there, you know? Not trying to entertain me or make an impression. We're past that. We can share space comfortably."

"Yes. We're comfortable together. Friends. You accept me, faults and all, and that means a lot," Grissom told her.

"And the sex is hot." Grissom laughed and agreed.

"Yes. It sure is. I know... we do have to be careful of not...irritating each other. To learn to have our own boundaries and respect each other," Sara said carefully.

"It will be an adjustment, to be sure." Grissom said.

Sara was thinking frantically. _This is what I've wanted, isn't it? Then why are there alarm bells going off in my head?_

"Uh...could I ask something in return?"

"Of course!" Grissom responded, surprised she even had to ask.

"Well. This is your home. And my apartment is mine," Sara said slowly. Grissom looked a little confused, but listened carefully. "When you were away at Williams..." A shadow crossed both their faces, one of hurt on Sara's and one of guilt on Grissom's. "I tried to stay here without you, but I couldn't. It felt wrong. I felt like I was an intruder, or at best a housesitter. When you're here, it's better, of course, and I've tried to make it feel like my home too, but...I still feel like I'm sharing _your _space, and it doesn't quite feel like _our_ space."

"Okay. I can see your point. I'm not comfortable being in your apartment without you there."

Sara sighed with relief.

"Sooo. You're saying we should get a place together? One we can share equally?" Grissom asked.

"Yes."

"I never thought of that. Perhaps you're right. Hell, you are almost always right!"

Sara grinned for the first time during the conversation, and felt women around the globe cheer.

"Would that be a problem?"

Grissom was thinking hard. "No. I've lived here for a long time, but in a way, it has kept me in a rut. A comfortable rut, but still...it's a cave, like Catherine said once, during that hockey case."

"When you told me you cared about beauty, since you met me?"

"Yes." They smiled at each other. "It was a tough case, but flirting with you, God it was fun."

Sara grinned at him. "It sure was. Beauty, Grissom, remember?"

Grissom chuckled. "And your comment about taking up hockey..."

"Since they had so much sex..." Both laughed.

"Anyway. Catherine went with me to the victim's apartment. And I thought it there was nothing wrong with it. But she called it a cave, a cave with hardwood floors. And when I looked around again through her eyes, I realized I felt comfortable because it looked like this place. Minimal furniture, white walls, a couch, a bed, a TV. Sterile. Clean, but without...a soul. Without a feeling of warmth and welcome. Just a place to eat, sleep, shower and work. Like this," Grissom gestured around the room.

Sara nodded in agreement.

"So, I agree. We should set up house _together_."

"Shack up?" Sara joked.

"Well, it won't be a _shack_," he said, smirking.

"And I might have my own space. An office, of my own. I've never had an office," Sara said with enthusiasm.

"You will. And a guest bedroom, so my mom can stay with us."

"Wow, that's going to be a lot of rooms. Let's see. A big bedroom for _us_...with plenty of closet space...and an office for you and another for me and a guest bedroom...that's four..a living room, with couches and armchairs and the TV...a dining area, so we don't have to eat off the counter, like at my place...a nice bathroom, maybe with separate sinks, with a _bathtub_..." Grissom smiled, knowing how much she liked baths and how much he enjoyed sharing them with her. "Maybe a half bath too. And of course a kitchen, big enough to share and cook for each other."

"Lots of bookcases," Grissom added.

"No doubt. We could open a library, between the two of us. Our music systems, our CDs and DVDs...maybe an attic or a basement...."

"For storage. For my roaches..."

"Yes. No roaches near the kitchen, be they sprinters or not."

Grissom chuckled. "Agreed. A backyard, so we can have the gang over for cookouts. When...we're comfortable to let them in our private lives. When they know."

"Yeah. They will eventually."

"And Catherine will be pissed."

Sara snorted. "She sure will. Some trained observers they are."

"I know!"

"Here we've been having this torrid love affair, right under their noses," Sara giggled.

"And Brass and Nick are the only ones who's figured it out," he said, shaking his head.

"Yeah. A backyard. A garden, too. Fruit trees, maybe."

"Sounds like heaven."

"Our own little slice of it, anyway. Can you...can we afford all that?"

"I can sell this place for a good price. You won't be paying rent. I have a comfortable income, savings, and good credit. I don't spend much."

"No, I don't either. Could I share in the expenses?" Sara asked.

"If you insist."

"I do. It wouldn't be fair for you to pay for everything. And we'd both be using the electricity and the water and the telephone...Internet...the food...heat for the winter nights."

"Two can live cheaper than one. We can work out the money as we go along. I know couples fight a lot about money."

"_They_ do. We never have," Sara said firmly.

"True."

"So it's settled then?" Grissom asked hesitantly.

"Yes. Yes, Gilbert Grissom, I would love to live with you." Sara grinned at him and he sighed with relief and grinned back.

Gil tugged her to her feet and hugged her. He quoted Christopher Marlowe softly in her ear, "_Come live with me and be my love; And we will all the pleasures prove._"

Sara quoted Yeats back to him, _"I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean-rows will I have there..._"

"_And a hive for the honeybee_," he said, looking at her admiringly. "Hey! That reminds me. Stay here." He dashed away to the bedroom.

He reappeared and held his hands out, cupping something. "Here. A gift for you. To celebrate this."

Sara looked at him wonderingly, then tugged his fingers open. She pulled out the necklace of daisies and the silver bee and ran her fingers over it wordlessly. Grissom bent his head a little and looked at her.

"For my honeybee. Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, seeing that her eyes were welling up with tears.

"I...I'm overwhelmed, that's all. God you are romantic and sweet and so good to me."

Grissom smiled at her tenderly. "Here. Let me put it on you." He did, and they admired it together in the mirror. "Now let me take it off and we can go to bed."

So they did.

Angst and fluff.

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

Grissom awoke at midday to find Sara lying across his chest, her arms folded, gazing at him.

"Hey. Been awake long?" he said sleepily.

"Nope. Just a few minutes. I like watching you sleep. Being able to look at you. I love this. Waking up with you."

"Me too. I adore it."

"Gil?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For a wonderful vacation. My best ever. For your good company. For being so generous with me, and wanting me to live with you."

"You're welcome, dear. It's my pleasure. I love you, Sara."

"I love you too, Gil." They kissed contentedly.

"Hey, Gil, can I ask you something?"

"Sure. Anything," Grissom responded, looking into those beautiful soft brown eyes.

"That day, with the photo album. What started all that?"

Grissom chuckled. "I was going through my insect photographs and slides, for a presentation in a few months. I keep all my photos on that shelf in my office, you know?"

Sara nodded.

"So, I came across that old photo album and started looking through it. A lot of stuff came flooding back, good and bad. I got myself a stiff drink and then you came home."

"Makes sense. Sometimes you have to look backward to move forward."

"Who said that?" Grissom asked, curious.

She chuckled. "Sara Sidle."

"Have I told you how wise Sara Sidle is?"

She grinned. "Maybe. Probably. So is Gil Grissom."

"Sometimes, I guess. I'm wise enough to know how wise you are."

"Not bad. You can be very sweet." He crinkled his eyes at her.

"Hey, can I ask you something, Sara?" Grissom said with more seriousness.

"Of course."

"You said...you mentioned...that someone broke your heart. Who was he?"

Sara looked at him for a long time, very seriously. Finally, she said, "It was you, Gil. You were the only one who ever broke my heart."

"Oh, Sara." Grissom pulled her up and hugged her tight. "Oh honey. I'm so sorry. I wish I could take it all back. All the times I hurt you. And broke your heart." They buried their faces in each other's necks and cried a little.

Sniffling, Sara pulled back and stroked the tears from his face.

"I know you can't change the past, Gil. I know you're sorry. And I know a little of why you were like that during those years. Yes. It hurt. Sometimes I wanted to leave. You _know_ I wanted to leave, and why. But then you'd say or do something that gave me hope again. And so I couldn't just run away, because I knew I would carry that heartache with me. I knew that I'd never get over you. I knew that I would be lost without you."

"I'd be lost without you too, Sara," Grissom said, his voice choked with emotion. "Bereft. If you had left...before we became a couple, I would have regretted it the rest of my days. If I'd never told you I loved you. If I'd never kissed you. If you had died...God, what a sorry, pathetic shell of a man I would be."

"I would have been too. I'd be dead inside."

"I think...I needed to grow up," Sara admitted. "There's a difference between 26 and 35."

"And between 35 and 50."

Sara poked him hard in the chest. "Gilbert! Will you get over this already? I need someone with your maturity. I need someone with your inner strength and your experience. I don't need some bubble-headed boy, all muscles and no heart. I need YOU."

Grissom stared at her.

"If I was fifteen years older than you, would that be better?"

Grissom sucked in a breath. "I never thought of that."

"Of course not. Honestly, neither did I, until just now. It's...socially acceptable for a man to be with a younger woman. Expected, even. But an older woman with a younger man? That's not. We're not kids. We're adults, free to make our own choices and be with who we want to be with. Do you really care what other people think?"

"No," Grissom said slowly. "I didn't, with those girls on the beach. I didn't, with those punks at Magic Mountain. Insulted, yes, but just because they were rude. You're right. I think I need to grow up too."

"Hey, we never stop learning. And we needed to get to know each other before we could learn how to be together."

Grissom nodded.

"We learn from each other, Gil. And what neither of us knows, well, we just make it up as we go along." They chuckled, with a little sadness in it, and Grissom kissed her. He tried to convey everything that he was feeling, in his kiss. Sara felt it and told him what she was feeling too, in her kisses.

"You kept giving me chance after chance," Gil told her. "Forgiving me, even though I didn't--I don't deserve it. Even when I was cold to you. Even though I fell in love with you years ago. Knew that I wanted you. Knew that I loved you deeply. Felt that you were the only one who could ever understand me. Put up with me. Be my companion. My lover, my love."

"Yes. I've always felt the same way. Look at it this way. I'm a screwed up foster kid. My parents were drug addicts and alcoholics. My father was abusive, violent and controlling. My mother is a murderer and is in prison. I have a drinking problem. I'm a rape victim. I'm temperamental and stubborn and too emotional. I'm needy. I'm rebellious. I have a problem with authority and I'm attracted to a man who was emotionally unavailable. I have some masochistic tendencies. Why on earth would you want to get involved with me?"

Grissom started to interrupt.

"No, please wait. You see yourself as a middle-aged bachelor with a middle-aged man's body, who is stuck in his ways. You feel unworthy. You think you are cold and unable to deal with emotions and prefer solitude to sociability. You know people think of you as eccentric or weird or morbid. You are a workaholic and driven to excel in your work. You have difficulty with trust. You have difficulty expressing your needs. You had to grow up too fast, without a father figure. You believe you are not worthy to be loved. You think you have an inability to commit or maintain a healthy relationship. You carry a lot of guilt. You have hurt the people you love and then avoided them to punish yourself. You bottle everything up and then lash out. You are afraid I will abandon you. You don't want to be judged."

Grissom nodded slowly.

"Now, all that I've said is true, right?"

"Yes."

"But despite all that, we are suited to one another. We see the good in each other and know it outweighs the deficiencies. We recognize the beauty, the intellect, the kindness, the strength, the decency, the talent, in each other. We're friends, colleagues, and lovers. We have found love, despite all the damage and roadblocks and hurt and history. We're in love. We've been able to open up and share our darkest secrets, even though it was painful. We can comfort each other and give what the other one needs. We've grown up together. I need your maturity and you need my youth. I accept you for who you are and you accept me. We acknowledge that we will not always agree. We respect each other. You have defended me, both personally and professionally, and I have done my best to defend and protect you too. We both trust each other with our lives. We admire each other. We see the big picture and the need to make a difference and ignore the petty stuff. We try to make sense of what is senseless, bring order to chaos, speak for the dead, and find truth and some measure of closure. We share the same values. We love each other. We have incredible chemistry. We have magic."

"Sara–you are incredible. Amazing. You astound me every day. You understand."

"Yes. You are too. Yes, we've hurt each other and it hasn't always been easy. But...you should also know that you've given me the greatest joy, the truest happiness, the most contentment, that I have ever experienced. I didn't know what true love was, until now."

"I didn't either, Sara. I didn't know what love was, at all. I had no idea life could be like this. This good, this rich, this happy. You inspire me. Make me want to be a better man. You've given me your heart and I love you, so very much. "

Grissom rolled her over on her back and moved over her, falling under the spell of her loving body and spirit. Sara responded with passion. Grissom made love to her, feeling the need to comfort, to connect, to apologize, to show and feel how much he loved and needed her. Sara made love to him feeling the need to reassure, to treasure, to release their pain and their guilt, to share the happiness she felt with him. They made love together, with the bright promise of a future together.

They lay snuggled together for hours, whispering little comforting words and endearments. The day rolled away. Reluctantly, they got out of bed, showered, and Grissom cooked a meal.

As they ate, feeling a new level of peace, they continued the discussion from the night before.

"My lease is up in two months. I'll go through my stuff and get rid of the junk when I have time. And you can do the same," Sara said, planning aloud. "We'll go house hunting together. Wow."

"Bring anything you want, honey. We'll take our time and pick just the right house. We'll have plenty of room, and with your help it will be a home to share. With each other and with our friends too."

"Yeah. A home. A real home, with the man I love," Sara said dreamily. "Who would have thought?" Grissom hummed in agreement and she kissed him.

They finished their chores, internally processing all the changes in their lives. Sara cleaned up and got ready for work.

Sara was sitting on the couch, hands clasped on her knees and looking down when Grissom came out in his working clothes. He sat down beside her and took her hand.

"What is it, honey?"

"Just trying to get ready in my mind to go back to work. This time with you has been –like a happy dream. I know as soon as we walk through those doors, reality is going to hit us in the face."

"It is. Just getting away and not thinking about the job has been so refreshing. It was the best vacation I've ever had, though I haven't had many to compare it to!" Sara giggled and agreed.

"But in a way, I'm looking forward to getting back to work too. It's who I am," Grissom told her. "It's what I was trained and educated and meant to do. It was all that I was for so long. I have a life outside of my job now and that has made all the difference."

"You found a diversion?" Sara teased.

"Yeah! No more chasing rabbits."

"Yup. The rabbits are no longer chased." Sara smiled at him.

"I know what you mean, though," she continued. "My life would be...would have a huge hole in it if I didn't have work. I'm not suited for loafing around all the time. And once we get back into it, I know the cases will draw us in and keep us focused and passionate about them again. And it will great to see the guys, but... I'll have to lie to them about where I've been."

Grissom sighed deeply. "Yeah. I can't even tell them I was in California. I can't tell them we visited my mom. I'll have to watch myself and not say _we _or_ our _or_ us._ I'll have to go to my fallback position and tell them nothing. And I'd like to be able to share how much fun we had and how happy we are."

"Me too. And I'm bursting to tell someone we're going to buy a house together!" Grissom smiled and squeezed her hand "I'll have to pretend that I haven't seen you in a week. I'll have to pretend I'm not in love with you, and you're just my boss. God! It's so frustrating."

"It sure is, honey. It sure is. At least we can look forward to coming home together."

"There is that."

"I know! Why don't we call my mother, and you can tell her the news?"

"Didn't you call her already?"

"Of course. But that was before I asked you to move in with me."

"Okay. Go ahead," Sara said. He dialed up the operator and when Abby was on the line and warm greetings exchanged, he gave the phone to Sara.

"Gilbert said you had some news?"

"Yes! Yes...we're going to move in together!" Sara could hear Abby cheering in the background and getting choked up at the same time. "We're going to buy a house!" Sara was grinning and Grissom felt her happiness and his mother's too. They exchanged a few more words and goodbyes and Gil talked to Abby and listened to her reaction, smiling.

"Better?" he asked, when he had hung up.

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "But now I miss her."

"Aww, I know. We'll see her again soon." Gil hugged her around the shoulders. "Hey," he said, tipping her chin up to look her in the eyes. "I know something else that will cheer us up." He dug out his wallet and pulled out the photos. Sara moved closer to him and they looked them over affectionately.

"I'll get the scissors." Sara cut them up carefully and they chose four each. Sara said she would send two to Abby with a note. Both tucked theirs away, thinking of where they would keep them in a private place, where they could look at them and remember.

"Ready to go?" Sara nodded. They sighed and stood up. Sara wrapped her arms around Gil and hugged him tight. He stroked her back and squeezed her.

She pulled back and looked in his face. "I'll see you soon, Grissom. I'll see _you_ later, Gil. Be safe, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, Sara. And I'll see you soon, Sidle. Be safe." They kissed deeply and broke apart reluctantly.

Summary of Chapter 21: One to go.

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

Sara drove to her apartment, knowing Gil would go into work first. As usual they were early for their shift. As she stepped through her door, she paused for a while. Thinking over her time there, how it represented her life in Vegas since she left San Francisco, she let the memories wash over her. Gil, on the couch, holding her hand as she spilled her guts about her painful childhood. Coming home after that case with the sisters; one outgoing and the other a recluse, only interacting with the outside world through the Internet and catalogs and takeout food. That woman was so lonely she had started a relationship by email and phone with a felon in prison.

Sara remembered coming home after the case was closed and throwing away all the takeout containers and menus and catalogs, then taking a breath and calling the only friend she could think of outside of work. Hank. _Hank the Skank_. They'd gone out for a few beers. Hank had dominated the conversation as usual. Going on and on about his work and how he'd been a hero. He didn't notice she was down and contemplative. He didn't ask. She was bored. Sara was never bored in Grissom's company. She'd gotten away as soon as she could and had come home alone.

Sara had wished that night, as she toyed with her glass of beer in the bar, that she had a girlfriend she could see and talk to and share her feelings with, one who would listen to her. Someone who could give her perspective on her heartache with Grissom and how he had been pushing her away then, into the arms of another man. But her demanding job and crazy hours never allowed time to make outside friends, especially close ones. Hank was okay, but he wasn't a fraction of the man Grissom was and she would never let him into her heart. Good thing too. He had a girlfriend and was seeing her on the side. _Asshole_.

Her apartment had been a refuge. A place to unwind after work. She'd been comfortable there but never very happy. She'd spent more time there crying in solitude than she had feeling contented. So, like Grissom's townhouse, it was her cave. It was warmer and cozier than his place and her things reflected her eclectic personality, but now she could take the good with her and leave some of the bad memories behind. She smiled in anticipation.

Sara quickly went through her fridge and threw away all the food, other than some condiments. She doubted she would ever cook or eat another meal there. Maybe as she was packing but she had cans of soup and some frozen meals to tide her over. Sara started going through her accumulated papers and mail but glanced at the clock and felt the pull of work. So she took out the trash and locked up.

Grissom drove straight to the crime lab, already shifting into work mode and letting his face and attitude return to the dedicated and no-nonsense man they were all familiar with. Judy greeted him with her usual bubbly warmth and Grissom told her it was good to be back. As he walked down the halls his coworkers popped out of the rooms and surrounded him, all talking at once. He told them he had enjoyed his vacation but offered no details.

Catherine, as usual, was the most persistent and she followed him into the locker room. She asked more searching questions about where he had been and what he had been up to, but was not surprised when he was noncommital. Cath announced with pride that she had made headway with his paperwork and had closed some cases in his absence. Gris mumbled some appreciative comments and let her continue with news about her personal life, then changed the subject to ask about ongoing cases and she responded. She went away to attend to fetch some files and Grissom sighed and looked around his office.

His face hardened when he looked at the accumulated miniatures locked in their display cases. _Damn that sick killer_. Bane of his existence for months. He had not allowed himself to think about the miniatures the whole time he was away, but there they were again, taunting him, and representing all those unsolved murders. The newest one, the miniature of Dr. Tallman's apartment, was the most baffling, since he had watched Ernie Dell blow his brains out on video and assumed it was all over. _Assume nothing_, he told himself bitterly. _Assume nothing._

Grissom called Brass and got the assignments for the night, then went into the breakroom for coffee. His face lit up briefly when he saw Sara sitting by herself and they exchanged a meaningful look. He poured himself a cup and offered her a refill, which she accepted happily. He let his fingers graze hers as he took her mug and then the others came in.

Sara was besieged with greetings, getting hugs from the three men and a warm "Welcome back, Sara," from Catherine. They were thrilled with the big bag of lemons and thanked her profusely. Sara gave out their souvenirs and giggled at their reactions. Catherine modeled the goofy sunglasses, Nick and Greg immediately stripped off their shirts and put their new ones on, and Warrick gave her a sly thanks and a wink for the postcards. Grissom silently enjoyed their reactions.

Grissom cleared his throat when the team had settled down.

"Okay guys, assignments. Nick, Sara, you have a floater on Lake Mead." Both groaned.

"Catherine, Warrick, a 419 at The Dew Drop Inn. Take Greg. Call me if you need backup. I'll be in my office, catching up on paperwork." They stood and got ready to go.

"Ah, the joys of being a supervisor," Catherine said as she took the slip of paper. "Come on, Greg."

"I'll drive," Greg offered.

"Ha! I don't think so," Catherine said.

"Yeah, picture that," Warrick added. The three left.

"Nick, I'll meet you at the Denali. I need to check my kit," Sara said.

"Sure thing." He left.

Grissom stood in the doorway and they looked at each other. He mouthed and signed _I love you_. She grinned the famous Sidle grin, said softly, "Me too," and winked at him. Grissom moved a little to let her pass and their arms brushed as she went out.

Grissom watched her walk down the hallway and out of sight, then turned and went to his office, his thoughts on everything but work.

**A/N**: I will be continuing this story with Part Two, Trusting the Team. It will focus more on cases and the team members and canon, and less on Grissom and Sara's private life, though that will be continued as well.

I would like to thank all of you so very much who have followed this story, chapter by chapter, especially BillyJorja, My Kate, edge15684, gsrfan34, was spratlurid quimby, and Nonnie 88. Your reviews mean so much. You others, and you know who you are, I thank you too, as well as those who have read along without reviewing. I hope you will indulge me and keep sending reviews. They brighten my day, every one of them.

Thanks for reading!

ILoveJorja


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